I visited your grave today. I left flowers but someone else left you beer and a pack of reds which seemed more suitable. I laid down beside you and read my favorite poems in your memory. You were never really nice to anyone. You were a real bastard I'm sure, but you are loved regardless. So I say thank you. For writing things that were so real, and for sharing yourself in the most honest way possible.
See you in hell Bukowski,
Jennifer Isadora
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