“if you read this after I am dead
It means I made it”
-“The Creation Coffin”
The People Look like Flowers at Last is the last of five collections of never-before published poetry from the late great Dirty Old Man, Charles Bukowski.
In it, he speaks on topics ranging from horse racing to military elephants, lost love to the fear of death. He writes extensively about writing, and about talking to people about writers such as Camus, Hemingway, and Stein. He writes about war and fatherhood and cats and women.Free from the pressure to present a consistent persona, these poems present less of an aggressively disruptive character, and more a world-weary and empathetic person.
Charles Bukowski is one of America’s best-known contemporary writers of poetry and prose and, many would claim, its most influential and imitated poet. He was born in 1920 in Andernach, Germany, to an American soldier father and a German mother, and brought to the United States at the age of two. He was raised in Los Angeles and lived there for over fifty years. He died in San Pedro, California, on March 9, 1994, at the age of seventy-three, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.
Abel Debritto, a former Fulbright scholar and current Marie Curie fellow, works in the digital humanities. He is the author of Charles Bukowski, King of the Underground, and the editor of the Bukowski collections On Writing, On Cats, and On Love.
“We all knew Bukowski was a tough guy, but who would have guessed that even the grave could not shut him up? The People Look Like Flowers At Last shows him at his scruffy, hard-hitting, tender-hearted best. They say this is his final posthumous book, but don’t bet on it.” — Billy Collins, former Poet Laureate
“The purportedly “fifth and final” posthumous collection of Bukowski’s inimitable poetry is. . . amazingly funny, mordant, rueful, raffish, sad, resigned; all attest as firm a dedication to the lower case as that of e. e. cummings. Standouts? Turn to “the dwarf with a punch” in section 1; the epical “Rimbaud be damned” in section 2; “I never bring my wife,” with its sublime apothegm about the lonely, in section 4. Bet you’ll then read the rest.” — Booklist
"The People Look Like Flowers At Last is the final posthumous Bukowski collection. . . and it is extraordinary.” — Buffalo News