My Letter to Charles Bukowski

A buffoon for a leader
Gauche, socially inept, dangerous
Waving his arms around trying to find words
In his non-existent vocabulary

A little yellow man waits, with a warhead,
To blow our west coast into the sea

The Russian bear awakes from a
decades long sleep
Sniffs around the buffoon and his
weak spots
Where to strike first?

Muslims take the rap for all the violence against the fat, over-indulgent, rich country and its infidels

A country known for taking in ‘your tired, your poor, your huddled masses’ locks its doors
Goes from house to house, plucking out the illegals, leaving families decimated
Children in cages
Has Hitler finally reincarnated?

Meanwhile the planet warms so that one can hardly recognize it

Dear Hank,
Nothing new here

TS: I found a letter Bukowski wrote back in 1993 which inspired me to answer him in 2017.

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