A Chip Off the Old Bukowski Block

My efforts have lain elsewhere of late…re-energized with my most ambitious novel, Song of the Yukon and maintaining a blog that is a never ending job.

But this poetry came to me, as it often does, with no apparent rhyme or reason.  I had just been reading some Bukowski and he always inspirespoet, wisdom, Charles Bukowski
me. I don’t suggest that I am even on the same planet as Hank, with regard to poetry, but I do admire his harsh, poetry reality.
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A Chip Off the Old Bukowski Block ©  by Trisha Sugarek

i sit here on the toilet
looking at the cane by my side
when did this happen?

its pronged feet could, at any moment,
scamper into a tidal pool, so much does it
remind me of a robotic crab

my mornings now consist of pills,
shuffling to the next room,
with the aid of my robotic crab
to pour cereal
then work up a shit before I can
leave the house
When did this happen?

bodily functions take priority as
I can no longer trust this body not
to embarrass me in public
when did this happen?

my knees are shot to hell
my bowels rumble and twist
my arthritis tears at me with sharp little teeth
my vision is perfect, cataracts
blasted away by another robot
when did this happen?

the other day my mind went on a holiday
leaving me behind, confused and blank,
frightened
is this a harbinger of what’s to come
when did this happen?

Have you discovered my regular postings:  Motivational Moments…for Writers?

“An intellectual says a simple thing in a  hard way.  An artist says a hard thing in a simple way.”  Charles Bukowski

My INTERVIEW with Bukowski
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One thought on “A Chip Off the Old Bukowski Block”

  1. When did this happen to you? Mine hit at age 84. My middle name is Oh Shit
    but I still want to go on forever. You just have to get used to it dear one.
    Fondly. P

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