Kafka, Bukowski And Me

Kafka turned to Bukowski and said,

“You var an arsehole”

Bukowski took a swig of his wine,

And answered

“It takes one to know one, baby”

Then we just sat there

In silence

Not one of the three of us spoke

I watched the flame of a candle

The only light to this room

After a while,

Kafka shot a confused glare,

Straight at Henry

Hank responded by pounding the glass of red wine

I just continued to sit there

Motionless

Without words to say

Taking it all in

Basking in their pissing contest,

But too small to interrupt

And let’s face it —

No one was sure

Just how I got here

And although none of us admitted to it

We all knew the answer

I held the slightest chance,

Of getting out alive

© Dicky J Loweman 2015