I personally prefer Bukowski’s prose over poetry. Something about it feels very raw and real, like dumbed down Hemingway, which I appreciate.
It’s actually weird, I used to love him in my early twenties, grew out of it and became resentful in late twenties / early thirties, but found new appreciation for him now, mid thirties. With how fucked the world is, everyone is a fucking looser.
Better than food is my go to. I just resonate with his taste.