I cried when Charles Bukowski died
not for Bukowski
it was over some guy
can’t remember his name
or what he looked like
but whats-his-name dumped me like a bag of potatoes
the black rotten ones that go wet in your hand
the sun was shining
I could hear a bird singing
weet-weet
weet-weet
and I wished for a moment I had a rock or a gun
something to shut that stupid bird up
weet-weet
weet-weet
it sounded so happy
and here I was red-faced
in tears
black potatoes and all
weet-weet
weet-weet
it went on and on
and here I was wondering why I was born
where's the feast I was promised
where's the roses and wine
weet-weet
weet-weet
and how could I live in this black rotten world
with just these potatoes and that stupid bird
it's simple
weet-weet
you clean up the mess someone else left behind
weet-weet
weet-weet
someone cleans after you and so forth and so on
and it's over when all the potatoes are gone
the sun was still shining
I wiped my eyes
weet-weet
did ya hear Bukowski just died
stupid or not
that bird never cries.