Thursday, May 19, 2011

May 19th, 2011

This is a cover of the poem "slim killers" by Charles Bukowski from the book Mockingbird Wish Me Luck.

slim killers

four motherfuckers knock at my door
and I open it
I'm drunk and they're massive.
"Bunch of slim killers," I say.

they stroll in with arrogance,
naive machismo
demanding a ride
while pretending
to ask for one.

we pile in,
all of us stinky drunk.

"I write too," exclaims one of the faces.
"I write poetry, like you."
His moment of vulnerability
attempts to mask his vile indecision,
his stench of desired acceptance.

back at my place I remain king.
one by one they pass out
like terrified, clever possums.
heavy aspirations
mixed with inflated egos
lead to disappointing self-realizations,
involving drink intake
and not.

come morning,
when they awake to a blinding
and cruel hangover,
one sure to be nursed with sympathy,
they vomit in turn
and leave with whatever dignity
they're able to muster.

as fans of my work,
I feel indifferent.


  1. back at my place I remain king...

  2. Hayat çok kısa..
    Bir ruya bu dunya..
    Umit yok.