Bukowski was a pedal-to-the-metal poet, writing 45 books, five previously edited posthumously by the intrepid Abel Debritto. Now a sixth — who knew there were this many previously unpublished documents? And this is no disappointment as it’s a rollicking ruthlessly original possessed set of poems. Bukowski writes from the back of the heart. He comes on as a tough criminal in the meadows of poetry; yet, don’t underestimate this grumpy giant. His trained eye, and the width and depth of his experience, says: you’re gonna feel it whether you want to or not.
He writes the way he lived — seemingly recklessly and driven by excessive appetites. But how much of this writing is alter ego, and how much autobiography? In truth, Bukowski enjoyed a felicitous long-lasting relationship with Linda Lee Bukowski, who made this collection possible. Nevertheless, he continues to wow the crowd with his epitomized personality and writing of authenticity and swagger. The sweet part of him shows up in his line drawings which are another kind of voice. He was a complex guy. He may be a case study but he’s a fearless writer.
1/2/93 8:43 PM
Dear New York Quarterly:
I am a native Albino who lives with a mother with a wooden
leg and a father who shoots up. I have a parrot, Cagney, who
says, “Yankee Doodle Dandy!” each time he excretes, which is
4 or 5 times a day. I once saw J.D. Salinger. Enclosed are my
Flying Saucer Poems. I have an 18-year old sister with a body
like you’ve never seen. Nude photos enclosed. In case my
poems are rejected, these photos are to be returned. In case of
acceptance, I or my sister can be reached at 642-696-6969.