You are the butterfly
that softly whooshes
between my ribcage
and that flutters
around my heart
aiding in its job
of moving the carcass
that is my body.

Even if you oddly
revert your
metamorphosis
and stay still
next to me
and rest in a cocoon
allowing silence
to rule for a day or two
perhaps
I've hurt you
and that's your way
to regenerate
from my unintentional
hurt.

As I lay in bed
I do the same
I go back
to my own cocoon
I shelter myself
out of site
but I'm no
butterfly.

I walk the dog
after he's done
with his dog affairs
I walk back home
go to the kitchen
and give him water and dry food
he starts eating.

Then I head to the balcony
and do the same
to my bunny
as he hops back and forth
until I feed him.

Then I feed the hedgehog
(wherever that antisocial
ball of ***** spikes is hiding)
I never see him.
I only see trails of ****
and empty bowls.
then I feed the hamsters
and circle back to the kitchen
and it commences:

      oin oin oin oin oin oin oin
                          oin oin oin oin oin oin
     oin oin oin oin                                
                             ­       oin oin oin oin oin
                  oin oin oin oin oin oin

"So you ignore me all day
and then cry
when you crave
veggies, huh?"

oin oin oin oin oin oin o—
"alright, alright!"

I grab his bowl
clean it as best as I can
as he continues to cry
in the back ground.
I sprinkle some salad
and wild arugula in his bowl,
grab a knife
curve my fingers,
slice some cucumber,
and dice some
green pimento
and shove it all in.

oin oin oin oin oin oin —
" I heard you the first time, *******!"

I go up to his cage
and there he is.
holding the bars
still crying for veggies
I place the bowl
inside the cage and he bolts
towards the veggies,
and finally shuts the **** up.

If I knew a Guinea pig
would be this demanding
I would've taken my driver's license,
quit my job, find another one,
got to a bar, have a pint,
smoke a cigarette, join a band,
write a novel, ****** someone
and burry the dead body
somewhere those **** cries
would never reach me
even if their cute.

The government
fell again
it's the second time
this year.

It was corruption
same as last time.
I don't vote
there's no point.

The same 2 parties
have been elected for 50 years
here in Portugal.

It's raining outside
there have been storms
floods on and about
and while I was walking the dog
I noticed a tree fell over.

I wondered
how long it had been there.

Some men
like to say
that taking a ****
is one of the best
feelings a man
can have
that it gives you
pleasure.

I don't know
about all that,
but the log
I just dropped
in the crapper
was a huge relief
both physical
and spiritual.

It's a shame
that when I
read poems
on this website
and I refresh
the page
I don't get
that same relief.

"you know
with a smile like yours
you could knock
ANYONE
off their feet..."

"oh really?
remind me of that
the next time
I'm in a bar fight."

You probably think
that I go around
thinking about how
Bukowski would approach
what I'm trying to say
well, I don't.
Yes, he's my favorite poet
and I respect his work
and the amount of honesty
he puts in his words
but if you think
that I don't know
that he *******
sprinkled on his work
and that he exaggerated
his life style, stories,
poems, novels.
then you haven't
read enough
of his work
(or mine) to know
that me and Charles
are nothing alike
and that makes you
irrelevant.

A sack of flaming dog ****
on someone's
welcome mat
ready to be put out
by the home owner
who will stomp you out
look at their shoes
and look at you
rinse you off
with the backyard hose
and forget that you
ever bothered him in the first place

within a couple of weeks.

And that's what makes you
my eternal enemy
because no one cares
about your opinion
of my work
and how different
and unique it is
from Bukowski's.
And if that's true
then the chances are
no one else will either.
God has doomed me
to be a hell of a writer
who can see right through
your lavender
infused poetry—
Leave it for the tea bags.
That's the prospect
I'll have to live with
as I am right now
at 4 am
while I stare at the walls
my dog twitches
while he sleeps on the floor
and while he dreams
insomnia
keeps me company
while it rains.

Oh, and *******.