Bukowski and Carver
I found Bukowski late,
the same laggard way I discovered Carver.
Last night, though, the three of us had drinks
and my pen clinked against the glass
with each laugh,
both men croaky and smoking,
Chuck a drunken gargoyle with folds in his face
and Ray so shy he’d have been right at home
locked in an attack.
The evening went along
like a raft ride down rough rapids,
and just as I was about to get my question out,
the alarm plundered my dream with its thunder
so that I never did find out
if either onethought I had talent.
--Len Kuntz lives on a lake with his wife, son, an eagle and three pesky beavers. His work appears widely in print and online at such places as Clutching At Straws, The Camel Saloon and lenkuntz.blogspot.com