While I am not a fan of poetry Richard Brantigan can keep my attention. I cannot describe his style, if there is one. I can say this, some of his poems have made me laugh out loud.
All things KoolAid are Brautigan
The Winos on Portrero Hill
Alas, they get
their bottles
from a small
neighborhood store.
The old Russian
sells them port
and passes no moral
judgement. They go
and sit under
the green bushes
that grow along
the wooden stairs.
They could almost
be exotic,
they drink so
quietly.
~Richard Brautigan
.......a poem from The Pill Versus The Springhill Mine Diaster
Gurnger fvqr, jvgu onpx gb pnpur, snpvat abegu, lbh'yy or yvarq hc jvgu Sha Pragre Onggvat Pntrf