A review by hollyevaallen
The Last Night of the Earth Poems, by Charles Bukowski

1.0

This book was so uninspired I’m amazed. There’d be a poem about drinking and traffic. Then there’d be another poem about how annoying women are followed by some drinking. They were almost all like this. Sad, alcoholic alpha-male poems. It’s not that a poet can’t write about a few select things, it’s that if you do decide to be repetitive in topic then something about the tone, style, wording, meter, etc must be quality and these struck me as average. I’ve seen much better poetry from newbies in indie poetry journals. I came away feeling little emotion about any of these besides mild annoyance and generally thinking Bukowski is simply an overrated cis incel- man’s wet dream.