Charles Bukowski

Of course, I make the airport bar. I would have made it anyhow. The camera follows me into the bar. The guys in the bar look around, lift their drinks and talk about how impossible it is to make it with the female.
My take for the reading is $400.
"What's the camera for?" asks the guy next to me.
"I'm a poet," I tell him.
"A poet?" he asks. "What's your name?"
"Dylan Thomas," I say.
I lift my drink, empty it with one gulp, stare straight ahead. I'm on my way.
[This is what killed Dylan Thomas]