Books like War All the Time

Some needles in a hay, my personal experience with Bukowski's poetry —predictable outcome, since good old Hank used to write ~10 poems a day, which was okay because he didn't intend to write masterpieces (yet he talked here and there about inmortal poems, but even that can and cannot be seen as a contradiction, depending on the goal you impose to your art, which in the case of Bukowski was not highly aesthetic but to the core poetry [which makes me think of Daniel Johnston's music, which I highly respect and enjoy], and some indeed have made it quite well and can be considered as inmortal, namely the famous Bluebird]) but casual everydayman poetry [yet highbrow in literary and musical taste, but, nonetheless, mundane in its style, working class themes and pleasures to balance well enough].It is only an auctioneer who can equally and impartially admire all schools of art. (Oscar Wilde)I quote (the always so very quotable) Wilde to defend myself (more poets today reverence Buk than Baudelaire, which is only normal 'cause all of us have imitated the former in high school [keep on doing it in adulthood, when Bukowski himself hated shallowers, is the big, and sickening, problem of a lot of talentless barnacles who don't acknowledge the anxiety of the influence to either stop writing completely or overcome it and create something of their own] and no one, finished the 19th century, has ever dared trying to imitate the latter —not just harder but impossible]), meaning that I prefer poets such as Baudelaire, who polished the same poems over and over again for a decade, like a marble block worked by Michelangelo, over Bukowski dropping poems like Pollock dropped painting (revolutionary at his time and highly influentional since then, but just not my favourite thing, unless in NeXTmodernism, where I take it to the extreme, writing a book in an hour [Wish You Were Here], but even that is a paradoxically reactionary defense mechanism to not only prove a point but something to myself —that, if I want to, I can be as stupidly and trendily modern as any average Joe, and even more, 'cause, no matter how much I try, I was lucky in the gene lottery [and culture too, not just because of being half Spaniard and half French but my uncle showing me amazing music since I was a kiddo] and cannot be mediocre no matter how badly I try).Bukowski loved César Vallejo... but even César, so vanguardist in Trilce, polished it as much as Eliot polished The Waste Land, but, because the lines in Trilce, unlike Eliot's, run free, the craft behind it is harder to spot, but Vallejo himself talked about him getting rid of everything which made the poem narrative-like and, in a letter to a friend, said: ¡Dios sabe cuánto he sufrido para que el ritmo no traspasara esa libertad y cayera en libertinaje!God knows how much I've suffered in order for the rhythm to not overstep freedom and fall into debauchery!