In An Alleyway

In An Alleyway

In an alleyway I lean against the left wall
Smoking my last Salem Green Label.
Wishing, just wishing I had someone smoking with me.
Even if its a lowly hooker or a drug dealer.
I seem to have an addiction of sorts, anyway.
It is lonely here in the alley of a
Broke-down shit city.

Alas my menthol has run out of breath,
And I return to my broke-down shit apartment.
The typewriter's page reads
"My name is: Kerouac Bukowski"

After running through the pages of
The Spirit Of Laws and The Republic
And writing all my thoughts, comments
And questions, I pondered...everything.
The politics, the economics, the society
The stupid fucking opinions.
And with no anger left in me, I went to sleep.

With my questions as unanswered as they had been
Just a few hours prior.
My typewriter's page reads
"My name is Kerouac Bukowski."