Letter to Charles Bukowski
No
I don’t want to be a goddamn writer
for the most part
I wish I were a carpenter
or a mechanic
I wish I had a skill
that folks could use
I wish I had a job
that paid the bills
I wish I did something
that folks might appreciate
or better still
understand
I wish I could do something
that would make my wife proud
No
I don’t want to be a writer
for the most part
I don’t want to be hounded by words
I don’t want to be detached
I don’t want
an invite to the ball
just to make notes
just to write it up
just to watch
all the guys and girls
dance and drink
I don’t want to document
or record
thoughts or emotions
I don’t want the goddamn job
No
I don’t want to be a writer
I don’t want the compulsion
the obsession
I don’t want to think
I don’t want to analyze
I don’t want it to come
and wake me in the night
I don’t want to know
a sadness – so deep –
it cannot be hacked out of my soul
I don’t want to write it out
of my blood
for it to fill me again
I don’t want it to come at all
No I don’t want to be a goddamn writer
but who the hell am I to call the shots?
I am just a man
I do not have a choice.
What Would Neal Do?
For Neal
what would Elvis do?
reads the sign
hanging in our bathroom
a sign
I’m grateful for
since I asked myself
the same question once
looked in the mirror
and answered
like that crazy guy
from the movie
True Romance
I took imagined advice
from Elvis
Elvis would go out tonight
right?
so I went out
and got the girl
at the end of that story
but who really cares
what Elvis would do?
I like Elvis
but he died on a toilet
or face down
in carpet
after falling off
a toilet
or some other way
that nobody knows
and anyway
the phrase
is just borrowed
modified
from the original
what would Jesus do?
And I like Jesus
but everyone knows
that Jesus got nailed
before they hung him
on a cross
he was hanging out
with prostitutes
and crooks
getting high on red wine
he must of hit it hard
he walked on water
turned it into red stuff
tipped up tables
and some other heavy shit
but by all accounts
he was a pretty cool guy
but who really cares
what Jesus would do?
I’m way more interested in
what Snyder would do
what Ginsberg would do
what Kerouac would do
what Neal Cassady would do
*Neal Cassady
not so secret hero
of this poem*
Neal Cassady
who really knows
I like to think
Neal
would
have
sat
half naked
at 4
in the afternoon
writing a poem
about Jack and Jesus
I like to think
he would take his girl
on a trip
this weekend
with his pockets empty
and his heart full
I like to think
he would get it
I like to think
of Neal
reading this poem
as he drives
into the unknown
shouting
Go!
Go!
Go!
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