1. Tuesday, August 5, 2014

    the ghost of charles bukowski whispers from the palm trees 


    he says why be lesser than

    why do it the cheater way

    why not get in here on the other side and be honest for the first time

    why not work a little at it: sharpen yr hatchet.

    charles bukowskis ghost aint got time for your fiddle faddle.

    hes got a new old racetrack to haunt.

    the kittens have so much fun with the plastic orange bag that the newspaper comes wrapped in.

    theyre so light and they slide on the hard wood.

    they chase things that arent even there.

    the one will be sitting doing nothing and move its tail in the slightest

    and the other one will spring over to it and take a good swipe.

    everything must be touched or sniffed or batted at or climbed on or rubbed against.

    they both talk to me and get jealous im writing you.

    one seriously just walked on my leg, made its way up and is now wresting on my arm

    purring, reading this little post

    about a ghost

    the other is scratching us both

    and trying to get that tail.