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Essential Bukowski: Poetry
Edited by Abel Debritto, the definitive collection of poems from an influential writer whose transgressive legacy and raw, funny, and acutely observant writing has left an enduring mark on modern culture. Few writers have so brilliantly and poignantly conjured the desperation and absurdity of ordinary life as Charles Bukowski. Resonant with his powerful, perceptive voice, his visceral, hilarious, and transcendent poetry speaks to us as forcefully today as when it was written. Encompassing a wide range of subjects—from love to death and sex to writing—Bukowski’s unvarnished and self-deprecating verse illuminates the deepest and most enduring concerns of the human condition while remaining sharply aware of the day to day. With his acute eye for the ridiculous and the troubled, Bukowski speaks to the deepest longings and strangest predilections of the human experience. Gloomy yet hopeful, this is tough, unrelenting poetry touched by grace. This is Essential Bukowski .
240 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2016
910 people are currently reading
3856 people want to read
About the author
Charles Bukowski
853 books30k followersHenry Charles Bukowski (born as Heinrich Karl Bukowski) was a German-born American poet, novelist and short story writer. His writing was influenced by the social, cultural and economic ambience of his home city of Los Angeles.It is marked by an emphasis on the ordinary lives of poor Americans, the act of writing, alcohol, relationships with women and the drudgery of work. Bukowski wrote thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories and six novels, eventually publishing over sixty books
Charles Bukowski was the only child of an American soldier and a German mother. At the age of three, he came with his family to the United States and grew up in Los Angeles. He attended Los Angeles City College from 1939 to 1941, then left school and moved to New York City to become a writer. His lack of publishing success at this time caused him to give up writing in 1946 and spurred a ten-year stint of heavy drinking. After he developed a bleeding ulcer, he decided to take up writing again. He worked a wide range of jobs to support his writing, including dishwasher, truck driver and loader, mail carrier, guard, gas station attendant, stock boy, warehouse worker, shipping clerk, post office clerk, parking lot attendant, Red Cross orderly, and elevator operator. He also worked in a dog biscuit factory, a slaughterhouse, a cake and cookie factory, and he hung posters in New York City subways.
Bukowski published his first story when he was twenty-four and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. His first book of poetry was published in 1959; he went on to publish more than forty-five books of poetry and prose, including Pulp (1994), Screams from the Balcony (1993), and The Last Night of the Earth Poems (1992).
He died of leukemia in San Pedro on March 9, 1994.
Charles Bukowski was the only child of an American soldier and a German mother. At the age of three, he came with his family to the United States and grew up in Los Angeles. He attended Los Angeles City College from 1939 to 1941, then left school and moved to New York City to become a writer. His lack of publishing success at this time caused him to give up writing in 1946 and spurred a ten-year stint of heavy drinking. After he developed a bleeding ulcer, he decided to take up writing again. He worked a wide range of jobs to support his writing, including dishwasher, truck driver and loader, mail carrier, guard, gas station attendant, stock boy, warehouse worker, shipping clerk, post office clerk, parking lot attendant, Red Cross orderly, and elevator operator. He also worked in a dog biscuit factory, a slaughterhouse, a cake and cookie factory, and he hung posters in New York City subways.
Bukowski published his first story when he was twenty-four and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. His first book of poetry was published in 1959; he went on to publish more than forty-five books of poetry and prose, including Pulp (1994), Screams from the Balcony (1993), and The Last Night of the Earth Poems (1992).
He died of leukemia in San Pedro on March 9, 1994.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 314 reviews
August 21, 2018
I haven't read anything by Charles Bukowski before this but I really enjoyed this. Again its hard to really review poetry but I have wanted to read more of it and so I'll have to figure it out I guess. My favorite poem was definitely Bluebird, and I had been reading it in recitation and I started to cry so I had to be all low key and try to wipe my face like I was just itching but I don't think anyone was fooled. I'm not sure why it got to me so much but I felt really emotional about it. I'm not sure how I felt about his constantly writing poems about writing poetry because I think he and I happen to have different ideas about creativity and intelligence etc. Also he seems to have some pervasive fear about not being able to write well anymore. There were other poems that I didn't necessarily feel resonated with me but I do enjoy his writing style and I can appreciate them regardless of that. I definitely want to read more of his work in the future.
March 14, 2017
What's funny is that I've read every novel and damn near every story ol' Buk ever published, but I must confess I've read precious little of his poetry in comparison. I picked up this latest collection hoping it would catch me up a bit, and I'd say that's what it did. Combining old classics like "the tragedy of the leaves" and "dinosauria, we" with plenty of newer and more obscure stuff as well, I would highly recommend this book to anyone looking for a short introduction to one of the greatest and most prolific American poets of all time.
March 20, 2022
I have said in the past that Charles Bukowski is among my favourite poets, but oddly enough this is the first poetry book by him that I've read. Before I had just read him a poem at a time, here and there. This was an interesting read, that much is certain. Some of my favourite Bukowski poems are here, and a whole lot that I hadn't read before.
What I was not expecting was that that quite a bit of the poems are not really poems, but rather flash fiction. What I mean is that they are more narrative than poetic, and work as stories. Some of them build strong pictures of events, pictures that will probably be quite memorable, but I still can't see all of this as poetry.
The downside of reading a whole book of Bukowski poetry is how depressing he can get. Drinks, fights, terrible jobs, lousy homes, screaming women and more drinks. I almost got a hangover when I finished reading it. I still adore some of Bukowski's poetry, but I think I will go back to reading him a poem at a time, here and there.
What I was not expecting was that that quite a bit of the poems are not really poems, but rather flash fiction. What I mean is that they are more narrative than poetic, and work as stories. Some of them build strong pictures of events, pictures that will probably be quite memorable, but I still can't see all of this as poetry.
The downside of reading a whole book of Bukowski poetry is how depressing he can get. Drinks, fights, terrible jobs, lousy homes, screaming women and more drinks. I almost got a hangover when I finished reading it. I still adore some of Bukowski's poetry, but I think I will go back to reading him a poem at a time, here and there.
May 8, 2017
I’m always hoping that I’ll like poetry more than I do, but I think the truth is that I almost never get it. Other than an abundance of Shakespeare and Marlowe and a brief section on Romantics, I never had a proper poetry class, and I lack the ability to just naturally intuit what poets are talking about. Except in occasional bursts, I can’t feel most poetry the way I feel fiction. I think this is more of a flaw in me than in the poetry.
I’ve run across fragments of Bukowski and always found them beautiful, but he’s so prolific I had no idea where to start. I found this in a bookstore and thought it would be a good introduction. While I can warn you in advance that I don’t have any smart things to say about this collection, and I’m hardly the most qualified person to talk about it, I’m writing the review on the likely chance that there are other people out there who struggle with poetry just as much. There’s a possibility that my floundering around trying to understand it might somehow be helpful to you–if only in the knowledge that, nope, you’re not alone.
I can’t really speak to whether or not this is a good introduction to Bukowski, having never read any of his collections before. Is it a good overview? Is his best work showcased here? I have no idea. I believe the poems are chronological though, and in some sense it felt like there was an aging process going on. The beginning feels young and edgy, and the end feels older and worn down. It’s entirely possible I just made that up.
My sense of the collection was the same one I got from reading bits of his poetry online or on social media: fragments of beauty mired in things that are much less beautiful. The occasional line or two would jump out at me, ringing with truth, but there were only one or two poems that I enjoyed in their entirety. I really liked “for Jane” because it captures, beautifully and tragically, what it’s like to lose someone; I had chills at the end. This collection is rather dark, very masculine, and it doesn’t shirk from the gritty or the disgusting.
It reminds me of Raymond Carver in its attention to the working class and its spare, brutal observations. I have trouble relating to it, since it seems very set in a specific culture that I’m not a part of (not that it’s impossible to relate to things you’re not a part of–that is, after all, one of the great things about art of any kind). I think it’s important to read Bukowski because I don’t know anyone else who writes like this or about these topics, but it’s not a book I’ll turn to when I’m down. I think I still prefer poetry in small doses.
I review regularly at brightbeautifulthings.tumblr.com.
I’ve run across fragments of Bukowski and always found them beautiful, but he’s so prolific I had no idea where to start. I found this in a bookstore and thought it would be a good introduction. While I can warn you in advance that I don’t have any smart things to say about this collection, and I’m hardly the most qualified person to talk about it, I’m writing the review on the likely chance that there are other people out there who struggle with poetry just as much. There’s a possibility that my floundering around trying to understand it might somehow be helpful to you–if only in the knowledge that, nope, you’re not alone.
I can’t really speak to whether or not this is a good introduction to Bukowski, having never read any of his collections before. Is it a good overview? Is his best work showcased here? I have no idea. I believe the poems are chronological though, and in some sense it felt like there was an aging process going on. The beginning feels young and edgy, and the end feels older and worn down. It’s entirely possible I just made that up.
My sense of the collection was the same one I got from reading bits of his poetry online or on social media: fragments of beauty mired in things that are much less beautiful. The occasional line or two would jump out at me, ringing with truth, but there were only one or two poems that I enjoyed in their entirety. I really liked “for Jane” because it captures, beautifully and tragically, what it’s like to lose someone; I had chills at the end. This collection is rather dark, very masculine, and it doesn’t shirk from the gritty or the disgusting.
It reminds me of Raymond Carver in its attention to the working class and its spare, brutal observations. I have trouble relating to it, since it seems very set in a specific culture that I’m not a part of (not that it’s impossible to relate to things you’re not a part of–that is, after all, one of the great things about art of any kind). I think it’s important to read Bukowski because I don’t know anyone else who writes like this or about these topics, but it’s not a book I’ll turn to when I’m down. I think I still prefer poetry in small doses.
I review regularly at brightbeautifulthings.tumblr.com.
February 3, 2024
Truly an absorbing read, if you’re willing to explore the turbulent mind of a man whose alcoholic nights occasionally burst into some of the most soulful and delightful poems I’ve ever seen.
Bukowski really knows how to convey raw emotions in a rhythmic and riveting way when he wants to. His characteristic untamed writing with darkly humorous undertones has a natural appeal to me, but then his shameless contempt for women ruins everything, every time. I’m so tired of his preying male gaze, I’m so sick of him reducing women to walking body parts and calling them whores, I’m so over the entitled mentality that works as a catalyst for books like this. There’s no doubt in my mind that this dude can write, and when his words cut through my flesh there’s nothing quite like it, but his misogyny is like a family of cockroaches crawling up my naked legs, it’s like finding sudden strands of hair in that exquisite dish I was excited to eat, it’s unwanted, uncool, unwashable and thoroughly unbearable. In a world where there's an abundance of poems waiting to be adored, I don’t think I need to subject my senses to such careless verses anymore.
I’m glad this short publication represents a mere 2% of Bukowski’s entire body of work, because I can only stomach his locker room talk in homeopathic doses. Still, it was way too much. I'm officially done with his corrosive chauvinism for this lifetime and I don’t think I'll willfully walk into any of his books ever again. It’s time to let go of the racetrack, so I’ll be searching for beauty and meaning and fire anywhere else but in him.
Bukowski really knows how to convey raw emotions in a rhythmic and riveting way when he wants to. His characteristic untamed writing with darkly humorous undertones has a natural appeal to me, but then his shameless contempt for women ruins everything, every time. I’m so tired of his preying male gaze, I’m so sick of him reducing women to walking body parts and calling them whores, I’m so over the entitled mentality that works as a catalyst for books like this. There’s no doubt in my mind that this dude can write, and when his words cut through my flesh there’s nothing quite like it, but his misogyny is like a family of cockroaches crawling up my naked legs, it’s like finding sudden strands of hair in that exquisite dish I was excited to eat, it’s unwanted, uncool, unwashable and thoroughly unbearable. In a world where there's an abundance of poems waiting to be adored, I don’t think I need to subject my senses to such careless verses anymore.
I’m glad this short publication represents a mere 2% of Bukowski’s entire body of work, because I can only stomach his locker room talk in homeopathic doses. Still, it was way too much. I'm officially done with his corrosive chauvinism for this lifetime and I don’t think I'll willfully walk into any of his books ever again. It’s time to let go of the racetrack, so I’ll be searching for beauty and meaning and fire anywhere else but in him.
July 4, 2022
There is something about Bukowski and his poetry that just goes straight into soul and stays there forever.
February 8, 2020
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.
how well you
walk through the
fire.
October 22, 2024
I always enjoy Buk's poetry. I listened to this over a couple of afternoons while struck down with a virus, and it was a perfect tonic.
January 31, 2019
I liked this batch of poems. They are simple, straight forward, and describe what many know as real life. Sometimes the language is coarse, but the later works lose that edge, and I think that improved his ability to speak to more people. Though his life seems to have been less than comfortable for the most part, he finds ways to soften the pain with a wry humor. The little one liners that end several of the selections accomplish that wonderfully. I may have to try some of his other works now.
December 17, 2016
it has been a beautiful
fight
still
Is.
My contact with poetry has been fairly limited thus far. I've read Shakespeare, Milton, Dante- but nothing like this.
This was the first volume of actual poems I'd ever purchased, and I don't think I could've started in a better place. Bukowski is like no other writer I've read- he's extremely raw- even graphic. But he knows how to cut deep, and pull emotion from the coldest things.
He writes about ugly things in a beautiful way, and beautiful things in a way that makes us realize they can still be ugly. He's cynical, but still shines through with moments of hope.
He talks about death, sex, war, hatred, love, betrayal, the gutter and the top. But most of all he shows us life in very few, well chosen words.
I'd never could've imagined poetry could've been like this- I feel like this volume has opened a new world for me.
fight
still
Is.
My contact with poetry has been fairly limited thus far. I've read Shakespeare, Milton, Dante- but nothing like this.
This was the first volume of actual poems I'd ever purchased, and I don't think I could've started in a better place. Bukowski is like no other writer I've read- he's extremely raw- even graphic. But he knows how to cut deep, and pull emotion from the coldest things.
He writes about ugly things in a beautiful way, and beautiful things in a way that makes us realize they can still be ugly. He's cynical, but still shines through with moments of hope.
He talks about death, sex, war, hatred, love, betrayal, the gutter and the top. But most of all he shows us life in very few, well chosen words.
I'd never could've imagined poetry could've been like this- I feel like this volume has opened a new world for me.
December 28, 2016
so in the preface abelstated that he had to leave out like 75-90(?) poems mainly due to some length restriction? other than a slow start that was the most disappointing part about this book. woulda been nice to get all the top picks under one roof but i'm sure we'll see another book come out with the rest of them then, eh?
December 20, 2020
It really bothers me because there were some good poems in here. Ones that I would have really enjoyed because they were so raw and honest. But Bukowski was so misogynistic that I can’t give this above a 3.
May 27, 2020
I wasn't expecting this at all. I got completely swept away by Bukowski's words, so much so that, at the end of the book, I was surprised and disappointed that it was already over!
It is powerful, it is disturbing, it is both depressing and uplifting. Can't wait to read more of him.
It is powerful, it is disturbing, it is both depressing and uplifting. Can't wait to read more of him.
June 19, 2021
God! I fucking love bukowski's work.
November 11, 2023
"this then
will be my destiny:
scrabbling for pennies in dark tiny halls
reading poems I have long since become tired
of."
will be my destiny:
scrabbling for pennies in dark tiny halls
reading poems I have long since become tired
of."
April 30, 2023
It was a stray quote on this very website that led me to Charles Bukowski. I started with the Post Office and here I am, years later, reading a collection of his poems.
“The Shower” is the poem that had the most impact on me. After I read it, I immediately snapped a picture of it and texted it to my significant other. It stretched across two pages, so he was sent two different images. His response, “Very explicit on the first page. Second page is really good.” My response, “The first page captures the rawness of the act that just occurred, when the rose-tinted glasses come off. The second zeroed in on the feeling of that soft stuff that takes you under into sleep when you finally curl up to next each other.” He preferred page two over one, and I preferred page one over two. A man of few words lost in the sauce of the totality of the shared life, and a woman of many words that forever notes the reality of things that exist in the background of shared life events.
The caged trash cans behind him as he took a knee to propose.
The splash of blood on my inner thigh as I gave birth to our first born.
And that to me is what Charles Bukowski’s poetry is all about. The moments in life where you notice those really real things that most try to gloss over and/or forget.
“The Shower” is the poem that had the most impact on me. After I read it, I immediately snapped a picture of it and texted it to my significant other. It stretched across two pages, so he was sent two different images. His response, “Very explicit on the first page. Second page is really good.” My response, “The first page captures the rawness of the act that just occurred, when the rose-tinted glasses come off. The second zeroed in on the feeling of that soft stuff that takes you under into sleep when you finally curl up to next each other.” He preferred page two over one, and I preferred page one over two. A man of few words lost in the sauce of the totality of the shared life, and a woman of many words that forever notes the reality of things that exist in the background of shared life events.
The caged trash cans behind him as he took a knee to propose.
The splash of blood on my inner thigh as I gave birth to our first born.
And that to me is what Charles Bukowski’s poetry is all about. The moments in life where you notice those really real things that most try to gloss over and/or forget.
March 6, 2019
This 2016 Bukowski collection does an excellent job of spanning a broader period of Bukowski's career than most collections. CB's popularity focuses primarily on his "Dirty Old Man" phase/persona so most published works/collections focus there (understandably so).
But everybody has a limit on how many poems about jerking off they can read before fatigue (physical and mental) sets in. My personal limit is 27, but only if I'm hydrated. So it was nice to read some CB poems outside of that phase.
One other strong point of this collection is that it largely eschews the most ostentatiously vulgar of CB's poems in favor of his more thoughtful or (dare I say it) contemplative and inspirational poems. In particular: "the strongest of the strange" // "no leaders" // "the bluebird" // "do you want to enter the arena?" // and "roll the dice"
But everybody has a limit on how many poems about jerking off they can read before fatigue (physical and mental) sets in. My personal limit is 27, but only if I'm hydrated. So it was nice to read some CB poems outside of that phase.
One other strong point of this collection is that it largely eschews the most ostentatiously vulgar of CB's poems in favor of his more thoughtful or (dare I say it) contemplative and inspirational poems. In particular: "the strongest of the strange" // "no leaders" // "the bluebird" // "do you want to enter the arena?" // and "roll the dice"
July 30, 2021
it was raw, it was rude, it was fun, it was so, so good
March 18, 2024
As the title states, this collection is an "essential" collection of poetry by the Buddha of San Pedro, Charles Bukowski.
"...the tigers have found me
and I do not care."
"long walks at
night—
that's what's good
for the
soul"
"but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so much
poetry."
"some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must live."
"mosty
the women are very
warm they remind me of
buttered toast with the butter
melted
in."
"love dries up, I thought
as I walked back to the
bathroom, about as fast as
sperm."
"I have been alone but seldom
lonely."
"what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire."
"invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
don't slough in the slime.
invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
stay out of the clutches of mediocrity and
self-pity."
"if you are going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don't get into it."
"there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock."
The Laughing Heart
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.
-Charles Bukowski
"...the tigers have found me
and I do not care."
"long walks at
night—
that's what's good
for the
soul"
"but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so much
poetry."
"some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must live."
"mosty
the women are very
warm they remind me of
buttered toast with the butter
melted
in."
"love dries up, I thought
as I walked back to the
bathroom, about as fast as
sperm."
"I have been alone but seldom
lonely."
"what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire."
"invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
don't slough in the slime.
invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
stay out of the clutches of mediocrity and
self-pity."
"if you are going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don't get into it."
"there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock."
The Laughing Heart
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.
-Charles Bukowski
January 5, 2025
I can’t give this collection anything beyond 3 stars because of how vile Bukowski can be. His deliberate misogyny is incredibly distasteful and takes away from the enjoyment of his talents as a writer (this man can write, but he is such an asshole!). It’s wild how feral of a writer Bukowski was versus when he decided to share enlightening and soulful poetry that actually touched your heart.
There is a simplicity to Bukowski’s writing, which I have always enjoyed, but reading this collection of poems that span over the years of his life, really emphasized his shameless contempt for women and it’s not easy to get over this constant theme that underlies the majority of his work.
There were a handful of poems that stood out because of their lack of misogyny and hatred for women. I’d like to read more of his work that does not fill me with rage, but that’s probably asking for too much.
Notable poems:
- the burning of the dream
- oh, yes
- the strongest of the strange
- no leaders
- Dinosauria, we
- the bluebird
- a new war
- so now?
There is a simplicity to Bukowski’s writing, which I have always enjoyed, but reading this collection of poems that span over the years of his life, really emphasized his shameless contempt for women and it’s not easy to get over this constant theme that underlies the majority of his work.
There were a handful of poems that stood out because of their lack of misogyny and hatred for women. I’d like to read more of his work that does not fill me with rage, but that’s probably asking for too much.
Notable poems:
- the burning of the dream
- oh, yes
- the strongest of the strange
- no leaders
- Dinosauria, we
- the bluebird
- a new war
- so now?
June 2, 2021
Välsammanhållen samling. Går från relativ ungdom, till ålderdom. När det är som bäst, är det fantastiskt. Och det är bra för det mesta! De finaste dikterna IMO kommer mot slutet, vilket väl i någon mån är upplyftande!
February 26, 2023
"and the empty bottles like bled corpses surrounded me with their uselessness"
February 22, 2023
i didn't love bukowski's books (if you can call them that?) like post office, ham on rye, women, and love is a dog from hell, but this selection cherrypicks his very best poems. at his best, bukowski is oh-so-sumptuously brilliant, maddeningly so.
there are some beautiful gems in here, and so many pithy bits i wanted to save and read over and over again.
there are some beautiful gems in here, and so many pithy bits i wanted to save and read over and over again.
November 27, 2016
I had never felt that close to the human being as I did with Bukowski in Essential. The simplicity of “I met a genius” made me realise how blinded we are by preconceptions. Big truths can also be found on innocent eyes. Turned the page and went from such an enlightenment to a laughing storm. I could be the one in “Metamorphosis”, maybe you could be that one too. As I told my dad, some humans are messy by nature, don't try to change it, cause this is part of my essence. Turned the page and tears stopped me dead on my tracks. “Hell is a lonely place”, indeed.
I finished the book and I was touched by all kinds of observations gathered in all those crystal clear snapshots. I remember the book now, and the Essential still lingers on. A footprint of street wisdom in my heart.
Thanks to the editor for such a great job.
I finished the book and I was touched by all kinds of observations gathered in all those crystal clear snapshots. I remember the book now, and the Essential still lingers on. A footprint of street wisdom in my heart.
Thanks to the editor for such a great job.
September 25, 2023
I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate this man, i think one star is too much
I read him only because i wanted to prove a point and i did prove the point - this man cannot write and i will die on this hill. there's one poem of his that's for the and i quote "young men and old that need to stay away from poetry", sis hear your own advice and do it.
The amount of times i read about hot women, burning assholes and vaginas is insane.
Thank god man is dead so he cant write anymore.
I read him only because i wanted to prove a point and i did prove the point - this man cannot write and i will die on this hill. there's one poem of his that's for the and i quote "young men and old that need to stay away from poetry", sis hear your own advice and do it.
The amount of times i read about hot women, burning assholes and vaginas is insane.
Thank god man is dead so he cant write anymore.
August 17, 2023
I wholeheartedly wanted to like this book, but albeit admitting that Bukowski can write, I just couldn’t stand the misogyny and the awful amount of male gaze throughout the book. The objectification of women in general was unbearable. If it weren’t for that, I dare to say this could’ve been a four or even a five star read.
June 18, 2019
Vulgar, crass, and harsh, yet also beautiful, haunting, and accessible. Bukowski’s poetry is something to be experienced. I love his voice and everyone should read some of his work, both poetry and prose.
February 13, 2023
At a certain point I got this urge to rip the book apart. I truly believe Bukowski is an interesting poet, but this collection was not it for me. I just read “white male privileged” any other page.
May 18, 2020
Este «viejo cochino» (por el título de la columna semanal que entre 1967 y 1969 publicó en el diario angelino “Open city”) fue, sobre todo, un poeta trepidante, directo, apasionado y (sobre todo) brutalmente honesto.
En esta antología «esencial», el lector hallará algunos de los mejores poemas de Bukowski y, por añadidura, algunos de los mejores poemas de la literatura estadounidense del s. XX: «A la puta que tomó mis poemas», «El perdedor», «Un poema es una ciudad», «Historia verdadera», «Un radio con agallas», «El flaco orgulloso muriendo», «Metamorfosis», y «La historia de un duro hijo de la chingada» —entre otros—, bellamente editados por Abel Debritto para Harper Collins.
Un libro que ayudará al neófito del corpus bukowskiano, que cuenta con más de 20 libros de poesía (en el inglés original) en circulación actualmente.
En esta antología «esencial», el lector hallará algunos de los mejores poemas de Bukowski y, por añadidura, algunos de los mejores poemas de la literatura estadounidense del s. XX: «A la puta que tomó mis poemas», «El perdedor», «Un poema es una ciudad», «Historia verdadera», «Un radio con agallas», «El flaco orgulloso muriendo», «Metamorfosis», y «La historia de un duro hijo de la chingada» —entre otros—, bellamente editados por Abel Debritto para Harper Collins.
Un libro que ayudará al neófito del corpus bukowskiano, que cuenta con más de 20 libros de poesía (en el inglés original) en circulación actualmente.
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