hank to his friends
drunk on his poems
a man who wouldn't listen
to doctors
but did listen to music
preferring Beethoven
to any and all populism
while his own verse
relied on the common touch
as a lover
he was the sort of horse
he always bet on:
an outsider
who might inexplicably win
after a poor start
as a writer:
pig-headed and prolific
shovelling yarns
and one-liners
at his constant publisher
avoiding the vicious perfectionism
of his lawn-fetishing father
his talismans
a six-pack
and a typewriter
conjuring him an income
saving him from oblivion
sorting other people's words
for the post office
memories rattled
into line
by the pock-marked horrors of his youth
by bleary adult failures
leaving us with
more stories
and empty bottles
than we know what to do with.
© Paul Taylor 2003
This poem is included in the trombone poetry album, for the record.
Bukowski fans may like to know that Roland Perrin's Blue Planet Orchestra has released a CD called Songs from the Cage which features a suite of settings of Bukowski's poems for choir and jazz orchestra, with solo contributions from this trombonist.
To buy a copy, please email .
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