The Old Poet by Karl Koweski

the old poet likes to relate
the story of the one and
only time he met
Charles Bukowski
following a reading engagement
at a west coast college

Buk sat at the bar
of a popular hangout
and the old poet
young at the time
but still old enough to
know better approached
Bukowski for an autograph

Bukowski signed the book
then spit in the old poet’s face

Buk went back to his beer
the old poet scurried away
to wipe the spittle off
his cheek and gloat over
his moment with the
"world’s greatest living poet"

is it any wonder
the rotten sonofabitch
felt such
contempt for poets?