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I was a teenage Bukowski

created by prole

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chaos

Los Angeles is fraught with poetry In the bathrooms and the bad motels I shall escape poem for Charles Bukowski
Ham on Rye Bittersweet Motel Charles Bukowski lifting my cheap bottle of wine
Once in a while. About some girl Drinking single-blend scotch with the petty thieves back in the old neighborhood It's better to burn out than to fade away.
Scotch and soda A boy named Ben hair It is against the law to walk in Los Angeles
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