Passing the Buk

I was thinking about Bukowski the other day
while taking a shit. I used a week old Merlot
as mouthwash while waiting.

I stood up with my pants around my ankles
and watched the turds orbit the bowl
and disappear.

I can’t remember why I started thinking about Buk
as I wiped my ass with Thursday morning’s
racing form and zipped.

He seems
so strange to me.

 


Scott Douglas began writing in grade school but let it slide when he discovered music. The interactive nature of the internet attracted him to writing once again as an adult.


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