new things

[brynmawr1]

new things

the day begins at 4 a.m.
I get up
carry whatever Bukowski book 
I’m currently reading
downstairs

I make coffee
with cream and 3 cubes of sugar
slap a nicotine patch
on whatever arm
I didn’t use
yesterday

let out the cats
patiently explain to the dog
that he must not bark
and let him out too

I go out to the patio
the dog growls
he barks a little but quits
and I drink the coffee
two cups
one after another

it’s only 77 degrees
the sun is four hours away
it can’t touch me
I feel the caffeine coming on
I feel the nicotine too

I think about 
how much fun
I’m going to have
reading more Bukowksi

I’ll be vicariously
smoking cigarettes
getting drunk
getting laid by whores
losing another woman
going to the race track
talking to winos
and maybe even writing a poem
or at least
reading about writing a poem
which is almost as good
and thank you, Hank
for writing so many of them

you’ve been in the ground
almost 30 years now
but you’re new to me
and I need all 
the new things
I can get

Hey,
I always love your 'snap shot' poems.  They always have so much heart in them.  I had never read Bukowski before so i looked him up and found a 340 dollar horse and a hundred dollar whore.  Brilliant poem and it occurred to me that you could make this poem about a conversation between you and Bukowski.  Like he is there with you on the patio, even as a ghost.  Just a thought.
steve