c r o s s
c o n n e c t
b u k o w s k i
J E F F E R S O N C A R T E R
One woman threw up after she slept
with him. Another accused him of rape.
The widow of a poet he'd betrayed
crashed in his motel room, who knows why.
A year later he described her
in a story as boring & fat.
A snapshot of him at fourteen, scowling
on the beach, wearing a suit & tie.
His nose pitted, his skin like oatmeal,
he looks like a formal monster.
Who would love a face like that?
I imagine him writing his first poem.
© crossconnect 1995-1999
published in association with the
university of pennsylvania
kelly writers house