"Fuck poetry!"-Bukowski

i thought i heard whimpering and despair and agony
and expected to see mangled fucks with cuts so complete
in their hatred for nirvana
that shards of filthy bone
stuck out and could be seen
by children who knew nothing
of death and death metal.

and i started laughing..
not in a sadastic manner
more of a
"seriously..what the fuck?"
...
the cyclical epiphany
that we are such fucking animals
and there is no magic
or happiness or god
but it's quite strange
when i look up sometimes
in the midafternoon and a full moon
is out and about and pink and whispering
"..........."