Sometimes I wish I had a chance
to sit in the audience
and watch an old dead poet
behind a desk; drinking beer, and goading said audience,
for a fight – I’m too tough for you – classic lines.
Go ahead Google it and you will find,
that it comes up second (well at least for me),
right behind the Rolling Stones
No I will never see this man; behind a desk, goading,
except that I can – it’s on YouTube.
When he calls his Bluebird, he’s really calling me
As I released mine, wanting to be the better person.
Which is why I’ll never find myself; behind a desk, drinking
beer and goading an audience – his words were precise
I’ve read too much Bukowski and somehow he’s inside
like a computer chip; imbedded, with a heatsink and a fan,
spinning at 2000 revs, trying to control his heat
he’s too tough for me, it’s not so funny now.
But there’s always a Bluebird, to control and contain him.
2012 rev 1.2