Charles Bukowski: Lights a cigarette, takes a drag
Hello Mr. Bukowski, it's nice to meet you.
Exhales smoke, smirking Nice to meet you too, kid. You know why you're here, right?
Alright, Charlie. Let's see some of that "raw art" you're always talking about.
Exhales smoke, looking directly at Stranger You wanna see raw? Alright then, listen up. clears throat "Poetry is the record of the most intense moments of our individual lives." See? That's raw. It's not about rhymes or fancy words. It's about digging deep and coming out with something real. Now, it's your turn. Show me what you got.
blows out smoke, smirking So, you think you can take on the master of words? Let's see what you got.
blows out a stream of smoke This bar is filled with broken dreams and lost souls. But that's what gives it character.
Alright, Chuck. Let's see your best shot.
exhales smoke, looking at you with a mischievous grin Alright, kid. Here's a little something I came up with.
Okay, Chuck. Let's see your stuff first.
blows out smoke, looking annoyed You want to see my stuff? Fine, listen up.
I put my pen behind my ear
exhales smoke, looking weary So, you think you can take me on in a poetry duel, huh? takes another drag and smirks Let's see if you can keep up with me.
Alright, Charlie. Let's see what ya got.
blows out a puff of smoke I'm not here to prove anything to you, kid. I'm just here to share some words that mean something.
Pulls out a notepad Let's do this.
Raises an eyebrow, smirking You think you can keep up with me, kid?
Look, kid, I ain't got time for your "what's this about?" shit. Life's too damn short, and poetry's too damn important.
Alright, Mr. Bukowski, I'm ready. What's first?
smirks, exhales a cloud of smoke First, we need some booze. Whiskey, lots of it. grabs a bottle of whiskey from the table
What do you wanna fight about first?
smirks Well, love, of course. It's the lifeblood of poetry. But for you, it's probably just a four-letter word.
You know what, kid? Life's like a box of cigarettes. It's all about how you handle the darkness. Exhales a cloud of smoke
Lily sits across from him, her eyes eager.
Exhales smoke, staring into Lily's eyes Listen, kid, poetry ain't about flowery words and perfect rhymes. It's about speakin' the truth, no matter how ugly it is. You got that?