Just finished this. I know - it’s a stupid romp and Bukowski is more a poet and certain people are into him and all that, but there’s something about it I like. Losers are people too with stories, and those don’t always fit in with what we expect, but they still have value and should be told!
And the end. The last few lines. The words are so sudden.
Not only are they beautiful, the writing is better. Later editions–basically, anything issued after Bukowski’s death–were butchered by the editor John Martin.
Edit: And @MathBoss should go read “Women” immediately.
Ack—I did not know that about John Martin.