Bukowski Night
I'm holding my annual Bukowski Night
I almost wish you were all here
but if it don't come bursting out of you
then please don't come
Allen's come to do his Kaddish
uninvited
or so he always says
it could be cool
it should be cool
it comes unmasked and from heart and mouth
the Buds are cooling in the icebox
the olives are in the communal dish
whispering Allen's already warming up
my God, this dude wrote Howl!
and now he sounds like he needs a mike
Charles is pilfering my shelves
and betting on Allen to extrapolate the extrasensory
Charles reckons the sun is burning his gut
how come the moon is out?
I slip on the Dylan
My guests chill out with Szirtes' whiskey
George gatecrashes late with his Jamesons
– but we know a triple distilled when we meet one
there's no other way
there never was.
* Gwilym Williams is a regular IS&T contributor
