letterman taught liberal arts
bukowski master of the open portal
that caught flies and dirty blondes ,
there where no country estates
or manicured ladies in crinolene,
too much hubbub
and relentless spiral of those
who live in such an octopus town,
that solar flares light the street
and guide those whose frail stories
stumble over awkward words
and metaphor,
master of bliss
with shimmering teeth
and boiling stench caught on
warmer breeze
vigilant for kisses and erotic
composure,
severed happiness from tears
and kept each separate,
behind the doors of our octopus
town the withered languish
robbed of enchanted loins
and their tears now crystallized
as rings for deaths fingers,
clotted souls clogged
as choked diaphragms coughed and
hacked sluices of phlegm,
the doors opened for a moment each day
quick enough for a shadow to be
flung out,
madness was a bomb on every street corner,
diffused as she appeared,
her deceit to entice
and enchant,
womb of silken flotsam
carried nothing hopeful,
yet her heart once orphaned
brought a rising sun
that closed the portal
to bukowski’s dismay
letterman fell aside victim
to iron skies and sanities rent,
heal deep she called
finding it broken
and lambs put together the pieces
with a well chewed glue

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