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
Another awesome piece
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Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it.
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Always :))
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