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This is the final piece of work by Charles Bukowski. Bukowski was a man, a poet next. One might find a few various comments about the man through his hard link but they are all as invalid as they are valid for one reason alone, he was the anti-poet. Critiquing his poetry is asserting football is better or worse than tennis. Some will agree, some will disagree. Especially hilarious is a comment to the effect of "Hemingway being beter" paraphrased, for protection.

I had generally found his poetry to be from the sewer of the mind, that part of you which says "Fuck it, I would obviously rather be doing this... fuck the future." perhaps at 3:00am when you shouldn't be noding, for instance.

So yes! Glorify rape! Rape children! Make fun of hookers, cripples! Gamble on horses and win cars! Hate your fans! Drink until you die! Be a postal officer! Fuck the greats of time!

Bone Palace Ballet is a complete history of sorts. It forms a rainbow of time: starting with poetry about his youth, going through all of his hard-times (both living a hard life and then being a hard-ass and hard-head), then eventually cracking his hard heart. To take him seriously is like William S. Burroughs winning the Boston Marathon, or to dare Hunter S. Thompson to down the gasoline. The man ends his bitter, caustic career on a sentimental note. Published posthumously in 1997 by Black Sparrow Press.

1.
God's Man
not normal
classical
the puking lady
depression kid
burlesque
first love
mountain
field exercises
what will the neighbors think?
full circle

2.
a place in Philly
the Kenyon Review and other matters
big night on the town
total madness
on the bum
society should realize...
madman
nazi
16 Jap machine gun bullets
bar stool
the mirror game
liar, liar, pants on fire!
the inspection
somewhere in Texas
city boy
the strange morning outside the bar
a $15 boy and a $1500 casket
rosary
the smirking dark
two crazies
a note on the masses

3.
Lord Byron
the weak
a tough time
some luck, somehow
art class
payoff
ding-dong
AFDC for you and me
I know you
bone palace ballet
oh
what can you do?
my friend, the parking lot attendant
last will and testament
12 minutes to post
in the center of the action
the fool
the rock
ah
room 106
in other words
the horseplayer
the big one
the parade
bum on the loose
going away
stag
late payment
2 horse collars
counsel
the fighter
my worst rejection slip
40,000
coffeeshop
poetry readings

4.
journey to the end
upon reading a critical review
the beautiful lady
black
my style
dead
a re-evaluation
snake-eyes
our world
how to get rid of the purists
a curious thing
the finger
don't forget
last call
undecent
one of those
candy-ass
the word
please
good night, sweet prince
Dresier wasn't so hot either
cruising
the way it is
a final word on no final word
each man's hell is different
the powers that be
clever
the poem
my mail
walking with the dead
up through the night
the fool dines out
hey, hey, hey
band-aid
the dangling carrot
preparation
freeway

5.
the new homeless
the mail
killing life
wait, it will find us
the x-factor
evaluation
the young
no return address
yes sirree!
snapshot (1985)
finished?
the voice of Chinaski
quotable
interview
the lady who looks forever young
an answer
a model
my companion
the barometer
the rivers
dark, and darker
the room
the two toughest
the darkening light
those good people
horse fly
night cap
action
playtime
poem for my 71st birthday
slow night
the racetrack salutes you!
alone
the joke
Glasgow
owl
Dostoevsky
my computer
thanks to the computer
safe
3 blacks
life like a big tender glove
the old guy in the piano bar
nights and years
quiet in a quiet night
a little cafe on 6th street
death in the modern age
too hot
the last song
reunion
disgusting
Bach, come back
the modern life
mailbag
self-invited
old
the young poets
Belfast
the dream
returning to an old love
cool fur
old?
a problem
taken
welcome darkness
Bach
great jazz
a moment
wondrous
fact
there

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