Charles Bukowski. Iconic. Unique, original, prolific. What he wanted to say, he said. He wrote tremendous numbers of stories, poetry, and what he wrote, he wrote without shame,
in a clean, terse style. In fact, his style was the only clean thing
about his writing. He wrote about the track, about women, gambling,
skid row, depression, obsession and cooked up the seedy side of life so
well that despite his base content, he rose above it with his prose. It's Buk's bday! Looks like he's got an exotic wager on his hands...
Happy birthday, Buk! And, thanks to Elephant Journal for pointing out the photo above and alerting us to his birthday. Thanks, also, to Chris "Jag" Calnan, for marking it up
with his attempt at 'apropos Bukowski "poetry"'.
My favorite Bukowski line is from the movie Barfly. His neighbors are fighting and a chivalrous Bukowski intervenes to save the wife from a bad beating. The husband pulls a knife and a struggle ensues. Bukowski gets the knife away somehow, and stabs the guy in the gut. He falls to the floor. As he's laying there bleeding and clutching his wound, he looks up at Bukowski and snarls, "You just got lucky!" and Bukowski replies, "Yeah,... but that counts too." Was that scene just fiction, or a tale from Bukowski's real life? Anybody know?
Great movie! Mickey Roark at his finest, although, I always wondered how it woud have been if Tom Waits had played the part. Type casting, you know.
My second favorite line from that movie is when Faye Dunaway says, "I just hate cops, don't you?" and Mickey Roark replies, "No, but I notice I feel better when their not around."