Dear Bukowski

I talk
of men
like
you talk
of your
women
See
how I
did not
use ‘my’
men
unlike
you

I
write
(like
you)
of men
I have
fucked
and
sucked
and men
who
leave
and
those
who
come too
early –
and those
who apologize
for doing
so

I write
with
love
and
respect
and
joy
and I
write

not
because
I absolutely
abhor
them
or my
self
but
because
I want
the world
to know
that
sex
doesn’t
always
mean
anal
and cigarettes

or
fast
untying
of shoelaces
and jewelry
abandoned
in the
crevices
of a
stranger’s bed
it can
and is
and will be
about
the color
he likes
the jacket
he had
as a child
the partner
he once lived
with

you get
it,
asshole

you
ruined
sex
for me

but now
I have
condoms
and memories

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