Angus Kennedy

Sizzling stories right out of LA LA Land wild and crazy just like the West Side of LA LA https://www.wattpad.com/story/152419618

THIS POEM IS BY CHARLES BUKOWSKI - anyone who is presenting themselves as any sort of an author, a poet, a writer or whatever needs to read it over and over and over again until the persons is powerful enough to stop bullshitting themselves.
          
                                                                                                        Lucky Esposito
                                                                                                        Waterskiing on the River Styxx
          THE CRUNCH
                    by Charles Bukowski
          too much too little 
          too fat
          too thin
          or nobody. 
          laughter or
          tears 
          haters
          lovers 
          strangers with faces like
          the backs of
          thumb tacks 
          armies running through
          streets of blood
          waving wine bottles
          bayoneting and fucking
          virgins. 
          an old guy in a cheap room
          with a photograph of M. Monroe. 
          there is a loneliness in this world so great
          that you can see it in the slow movement of
          the hands of a clock 
          people so tired
          mutilated
          either by love or no love. 
          people just are not good to each other
          one on one. 
          the rich are not good to the rich
          the poor are not good to the poor. 
          we are afraid. 
          our educational system tells us
          that we can all be
          big-ass winners 
          it hasn't told us
          about the gutters
          or the suicides. 
          or the terror of one person
          aching in one place
          alone 
          untouched
          unspoken to 
          watering a plant. 
          people are not good to each other.
          people are not good to each other.
          people are not good to each other. 
          I suppose they never will be.
          I don't ask them to be. 
          but sometimes I think about
          it. . . .
          ​