Charles Bukowski examines cats and his childhood in You Get So Alone at Times, a book of poetry that reveals his tender side. The iconic tortured artist/everyman delves into his youth to analyze its repercussions.
"The Walt Whitman of Los Angeles."—Joyce Carol Oates
"He brought everybody down to earth, even the angels."—Leonard Cohen, songwriter
January 1, 1987
"You're a bum, he told me/ and you'll always be a bum . . . and it's too bad he's been dead/ so long/ for now he can't see/ how beautifully I've succeeded/ at/ that." True to his words, this prolific poet loves to play the oversexed bum, continually lashing out at other writers, the rich, and anyone who fails to appreciate his brilliance. This collection takes a new turn, though, as Bukowskinow in his sixtieslooks back on some tender memories of youth. Other redeeming features include a self-mocking humor and a love for cats. For larger collections, and those whose readers are not easily offended by four-letter words. Rochelle Ratner, formerly Poetry Editor, "Soho Weekly News," New York
Copyright 1987 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.