Rotten Old Bukowski (Explicit)


Rotten old men

Standing like their

Rotten cocks


They watch the mothers

And children play.

Some watch the mothers

In skirts, tight, amorphous

Bending over

Their great asses

Blocking out the sky.

The daughters cowering behind

Oval shadow

Others watch the children

Thumbs perked up

Wriggling between two

Moist, pursued lips

Blowing their

Boo-boo’d thumbs.

Erotic Stomach Surgery


Squeezing inches closer

A nice hazel

Cream cheese


I can’t stand it

When the raspberry jelly

Sticks to my fingers

We’re scraping the jelly off

The table

Pureed to the center

Of my favorite syringe

Oozing belly button puss

On robust tum

and we never gave it

a name

How to Pick up Women

after a few pots of coffee
I shit like machine gun rounds,
My ass sags like rumple stilts skin
Putrid burning mass graves
Producing poo more impressive
Than poetry
When I meet a woman with a scandalously
Intentioned smile
I become
The fluffy bunny
Doing back flips
For a carrot
And a stroke

I read her a line or two
Prove my artistry
Probe my brain
Probing with chocolate finger
Frantic fanny
“that’s not even that impressive
You should see my shits
Gander the goods.
People come from all around
Towns from the far side
of the world
to seize this masterpiece ”
And when they do
The long tapering snake making its way
From the toilet bowl
Down the hall
And out the front door
That’s what gets me laid.

Sad Tugging

I took her love
like a well fitted suit
in between torn
Kreuger thighs
of suicidal dancer
tapering to toes

taking me to celestial lows
In-furled frilled brow
Hand clenching
my heat

Love Life

You fight
But only enough
To keep me from quitting

We fuck
The hand are rough
The screaming jizzums splitting

Hiding behind
Imaginary assault
To keep genuine passion
In its holding cell

Queen of the Material World

She had a seam on the small of her back
We’d make love
From this world
Until the sun rose in the next
I never questioned

She was flexible
An ass that herded men like sheep
You’d think she was famous
A real contribution to
American culture
By the press and cameras
Centered behind her

Her face symmetrical
Underwear unstained
Never felt the itch or urge
To rub her ass against
The floor like a dog

On the night of our leashing
I bit at her lingerie
Chewing on the seam
Tearing it in two

Behind those flesh curtains
On the small of her back
Was a series of double A batteries.


Swaying hips, seducing steps
Playing games
I am your queen
You are my king
Shuffled together
Front to back
I can feel your desire

Your heat swelling
Throbbing against flesh
Like the magician that first showed me what it means to love
You flip these cards

With hairy hot strength
At first it hurt
Cracking pelvis
You flip those cards

Play those cards effortlessly
Endless monstrous cock
Sometimes you pass me in those beginner halls

Sometimes nearly naked
With firm pectorals
Raging biceps
The red sea couldn’t spread far enough for you

Taught skin
Sweet jagged friction
Drenched in
Excited sweat, spasms,
and warm

With him inserting himself
Into my very own
Like an artist
Throbbing to create

Deviant Nuns

They’re all nuns
Strutting around with anal
Plugs and strap-ons

They take your trust
And creation hand and hand
Walking into the basement of the temple of God

A bony hand gently
cusps the buttocks
memories of the armchair
in their clinic

dark fantasies

swimming through a golden sea
into the mouth
of a man drowned
hand and hand with maggots
and brittle crumbling

premonitions of a gun
snickering in the drawer


I know those coded phrases
The morse syllables
Quivering in uncertain voice
I know when you close your eyes
And I slide in
I know you think of him