Thank you for putting this on my radar. I love when he recounts a memory of one his women (not possessive) and they are laughing reading his work and complementing his rawness. I’m like, “I was literally just thinking that.” And maybe it’s something about the freedom he lived in, not wanting to...
That's so cool. I go back and forth between hating and loving him, but it's always with a captivation that keeps me stuck. It also must have been fun to bone him lmaooooo but there I go sounding like any other Bukowski groupie now, smh.
born a year too late to ever be in the same room as Bukowski. I don't remember the very first thing I read from him, (I fondly remember reading Fire Station in high school from a now-lost copy of Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit, that work...
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