The day I met Bukowski at the no name bar by Peter A. Witt

Bar was beat up, past its prime,

like most of its patrons,

including a shabby man who drank dark swill

talked of whores like they were his best friends,

along with fading people who like me

rented cheap hotel rooms at the dive next door.

Shabby bought me a couple of watery beers,

complimented the gravy stains

on my never washed shirt, leaned close

whispered bad breath in my ear,

be sure to grovel with strangers, he said,

especially those with ragged breath,

they're earth's hidden secrets,

as he saluted the barkeep,

sauntered out the door.

Peter A. Witt is a Texas Poet and a retired university professor. He also writes family history with a book about his aunt published by the Texas A&M Press. His poetry has been published on various sites including Fleas on the Dog, Inspired, Open Skies Quarterly, Active Muse, New Verse News, and WryTimes.