Untitled

— David Alexandrou

Bukowski was watching the neon Budweiser sign blink at 3:14am.

He had a chocolate sprinkled donut in his hand and a coffee in the other.

He lost both shoes after a fist fight in the ally.

Hollywood was as rough as New York this Friday night in 1982.

One liquor store was open 24 hours.

He grabbed a sixer

And headed to his apartment.

The donut wasn’t settling

Neither were the two black and blue eyes.

He looked in a window to catch his reflection.

He actually liked what he saw and smiled for the first time in weeks.

He opened a beer and started dancing under the moonlight to Bob Seager’s Night

Move as it was seeping out of an upper window apartment building.

A falling star went overhead while his eyes were closed.

Siren lights on the freeway lit up Korea town red and blue for a full minute.

“Charles? Look at you out here with two black eyes.

Oh my God!

Get your butt up here to my room this moment.

I have some soup and get into the bath. You are not taking care of yourself. Your

book Ham on Rye made you what? $500,000? $600,000

And you’re still out on the street like a rat. You’re such a sick beast.

I love you

Now get up here.”

He never went up to meet her.

He finished a fifth beer and fell asleep.

Woke up at 5:01AM and wrote his most famous poem.

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