he noticed
a certain consistency
between his
sushi meal
and his pussy meal
but of course
he would never say
that out loud
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Hello, my name is me and I write dirty poetry. Some may say I am just a Bukowski copycat, but since I am alive and he is dead, that is physically impossible, metaphysically probable, and also I don't give a shit. I rather think of myself as a zen monk who doesn't like the taste of soap.

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