Sitting in the Dark Imagining

I’m out here sitting in the dark listening to the bugs and the little toads out here in the woods,

staring at the night sky looking at the stars and I’m imagining my dad up there talking to Bukowski

the poet, novelist. I just see my dad talking to Bukowski saying, “Hey man, he’s you, so I need you to send

more Bukowski stuff so he can watch and be inspired and do something. I’m not gonna let my kid just sit

there and be a nobody. He’s gotta do something even if he’s a fuckup and from that fuckup he’s gotta rise

and do some bullshit, cause he’s my son.”

Published
Categorized as Poems