I Found Bukowski's Bluebird Bones

every typo is a town in wales

& theres a monster in my chest

playing hectic percussion

on the bluebird bones

& up there 

in the sunlit uplands

i swear the hibernating mammals

are busy hijacked my slumber

~

& deaths back pages are condensed & lucent

in a twelve minute drivethru crematorium farce

the thin smoke of bones is forgetting itself

& dissolving in glyphs up there

in the grey bluebird sky

Ford Dagenham - UK