Why I Stopped Playing Sentimental Melodies

She was a dancer

Who looked like

Meghan Merkle

Might have looked

At age 23.

I was a sentimental

Poet and wannabe

Classical guitarist

Fond of Segovia

And sentimental

Melodies, though

I was too shot

Through after work

To play anything by

Sor, much less Bach.

But it was the dream.

Surprisingly, she sent

Me a text weeks after

Disappearing from

The trap. So I thought

Just maybe the Chemistry

I’d sensed Might not have 

Been Just me. On the way

To the diner where

We’d agreed to meet,

I told myself to not

Say anything about

Her religious beliefs;

We’d had those debates

Before. But sometime

After dinner, she leaned

Into me, gazed into my

Eyes and told me to check

Out this YouTube video

Spun by a preacher who

Claimed that Jesus would

Be transporting all of his

Faithful up to be with him

In 2012. She said it would

Be cool if we hooked up

In heaven. I searched her

Eyes for signs of insanity,

But didn’t see any. I told

Myself to just play along

And get some Halfrican

Love and much needed

Ass, but despite my hard-

Up condition, I leaned

Right in and told her

Straight that the end

Times have been

predicted time and

Again, century after

Century, and come 2012,

We’d either still be glued

To this limiting Earth or

Dead. She looked at me

With glazed eyes and

Sighed, and I knew that

Sigh that always meant

Goodbye. And later that

Night I tried to play a

Sentimental melody

On the classical guitar,

But halfway through

The first few bars of

“Romanza” by anonymous

I laughed, put it down,

And never tried again.

 

— Fyodor Bukowski

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Delusion Juice

Delusions

Delusions

Everywhere

So many heads

Just swimming

With them. Hey

Look, I’m friends

With a thousand

Malaysian Beauty

Queens, and they’re

All 18. And Lookie

Here, my impromptu

Poem got 9 likes, and

I wrote it on the clock

At work. The boss is

Such a jerk. And don’t

forget to Thumbs-up the

vid of my old 80s rock

band too because we

would have made it

for Sure if our singer

Hadn’t been such

A flake. Delusions

Of grandeur and

Goodness too in

The vast Buddhaverse

Of virtue-signalling

Bodhisatvas and

That blue Hindu

God and his consort

Too: Look how hip

your Views are, loving

Me so much that

You don’t think I

Should have a

Gun in a world like

This….And then

There’s the

Smarmy fool

Who discounts

Appalling realities

As “conspiracy

theories” bc he

Doesn’t know

That phrase was

Concocted by

A certain intelligence

Agency to throw us

Of the trail of Who

Did JFK. Delusions

Delusions like

Politics and

Religions whose

Perpetrators are

All in the pockets

Of the same pay-

Masters. But I know,

I know, reality is just

Too much for us to

Take down straight,

So mix our drinks

With that sweet

Delusion-juice,

Bartender,

And thank you very

Much.

 

— Fyodor Bukowski

 

 

 

 

 

You Never Knew Me

Has is happened to you?

One of your”friends” or

someone who’s family

says something

which makes you realize

that even after

all the words and happenings

you’ve survived together,

this friend or

family member

never knew you–

not really–

not even a little

It’s an illuminating

moment for sure

but what it reveals

is just one

of those things

you never

really wanted

to see

 

–Fyodor Bukowski, author of MAIL ORDER ANNIE (A Story of Passion and Compassion) on Amazon and Kindle