Bukowski wrote about what he knew, the desperate lonely men in their apartments and rented rooms. The perpetual bachelors. The drifters from menial job to menial job. The barflys. The alimony groaners. The fathers who haven’t seen their son in…it must be…five years now? The unpromoted for six years. The regular faces at the bar. The college drop outs. The family failures unmentionable at Christmas. The dreamers with a new get rich scheme every week. The embarrassing uncles. The two sentence obituaries in the local newspapers. “Paul Davis, 64. Mr Davis worked at Car-u-Rite for seven years as an administrator. He lived in Los Angeles for twenty years”. The van drivers. The carpet salesmen. The fifteen-year-old car owners. The obsessive sports fans.
Charles Bukowski is the poet laureate of the alt-right
Tom X Hart
511

Wow. You just indicted the entire Beat Generation. Also, the Lost Generation. Hell, you’re arguing that essentially all great literature that focuses on working people is alt-right. I’d wager most on the alt-right couldn’t identify Bukowski.

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