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Rating: 
Summary: Mellower Buk
Review: Charles Bukowski may prove to be the most prolific dead writer of all time. Every year seems to see another few hundred new poems published. I've no idea how many more there may be, but I'll probably buy them all. This collection is obviously from the mind of a man contemplating the past and not expecting a lot of future. But, Bukowski started referring to himself as old at about age 50, which may have been justified by the sort of life he had led to that point. The pieces in this book are on a par with what's gone before and well worth the attention of Bukowski fans.
Rating:
Summary: Mellower Buk
Review: Charles Bukowski may prove to be the most prolific dead writer of all time. Every year seems to see another few hundred new poems published. I've no idea how many more there may be, but I'll probably buy them all. This collection is obviously from the mind of a man contemplating the past and not expecting a lot of future. But, Bukowski started referring to himself as old at about age 50, which may have been justified by the sort of life he had led to that point. The pieces in this book are on a par with what's gone before and well worth the attention of Bukowski fans.
Rating: 
Summary: Still More Wheat than Chaff
Review: Even in decline or repose, Bukowski was a snarling middleweight champion next to the preening and professional academic poets that choke our journals. I suppose we can even forgive him the torrent of imitators and pretenders he has spawned, writing roominghouse poetry from their parents' basement.This collection has a few clunkers and a fair share of poems that just chase their own tails. But there is good stuff here, as well - hospital and leukemia poems, more fond remembrances of Jane and the overbearing father. Even a poem about the poems to be collected and released after his death (ie this book.) While there is chaff amongst the wheat, this book can still be recommended.
Rating:
Summary: Too Many Dumb People Crawl The Earth
Review: Quoting partially out of B as an Bull****from page 117.
Be able to dislike poets and poetry
Be able to understand that the rich can be poor in spirit
Be able to understand that the poor live better than the rich
If you posses any intelligence you should be able to define the words POOR and RICH
Bukowski was a contradiction, which made him even more interesting, so he chose to kill
himself with alcohol and cigarettes that's his business. That does not take away his talent,
it may have something to as to why he contradicted himself so much, but I'm not a shrink and even if I was that wouldn't mean anything.
I loathed free verse in college while I was learning to write sonnets, but once I was introduced to Bukowski, it all changed. He was raw, outspoken, and politically incorrect. He was short and quick to the point and made you think and question many things. Isn't that what art is supposed to do?
You can pick up this book and read any little poem such as "poop", "the road to hell", or "pretenders" just to name a few and your outlook on things will change.
It mesmerizes that a dead man continues to enlighten people. I don't agree that this book is exactly his mellowest, but one of his best works.
Rating:
Summary: Bukowski at his best
Review: There are three phases of Bukowski's poetry. (1) The hard-drinking, experimental 1960s and 1970s. In that period, he was putting out small chapbooks. His poems were short stories, but they felt a bit like traditional poetry. Bukowski tried some creative ways of stringing lines together back then, too. (2) The 1980s, when he was married and settled, spending time reflecting on his life. This is the best period, when Black Sparrow put out fat volumes of poetry and Bukowski had really found his 'voice.' (3) The post-death period, starting in the mid-1990s, when the back log of unpublished poems were released. This book is part of that third phase. By this time, Bukowski knows exactly what he does best. Most of the experimentation is gone. This volume of one of the best of the third phase, right up there with The Night Torn Mad By Footsteps. Bukowski writes about his childhood, drinking, visiting the hospital for leukemia, the track, classical music, his father, relaxing with his wife, and growing old in Los Angeles. He even squeezes in two political poems. Every poem is good. Some are great. If you made a 'greatest hits' collection of his post-death poetry, at least a third of this book would be in it. If you haven't tried Bukowski's poetry before, start with this book. If you're a fan, you'll be pleased with this new one. Previous 'third phase' books had some problems ("Sifting Through the Madness" was a disappointment), but this one shines. Bukowski is at his most reflective, with real control of his talent.
Rating:
Summary: Not filler and rejects- fits the flow of his life
Review: This isn't the best volume of Bukowski that I've ever read, but it isn't the worst either. I think that means something because I've read most of what he published during his lifetime- I used to look forward to the next book of poems, the next novel, year by year. The posthumous collections have been worthwhile in my opinion. This is all stuff that fits the flow of his life narrative. He needed to get it out; it isn't just filler and rejects. There are enough reminiscences about the old days to hold your interest if that was your favorite period of his life (though he makes it clear that to go out and try to live that way when you've got other options is insane.) Buk didn't have a choice and he points out that he was the luckiest man alive to have survived it.
As for this being "mellow" Bukowski, yes, I think he even uses that term in one of the poems. Plus he clearly let his hatred of his father go. However, he also states that he has never really had any peace in his life. Sure, his cancer took some of the fight out of him, but he never surrendered. He says in one poem that you have to "accept terrible reality", but that doesn't mean he ever surrendered to terrible reality.
Rating:
Summary: One Last Bukowski Book - YEAH!
Review: This May not be Bukowski's best collection -- but it remains an enjoyable collection, most notable for being his last. I'm certainly happy that it found it's way into print. Here's are the usual themes of loneliness, desolation, confusion about women and love -- all laced with a gallows humor that never left Bukowski, in spite of his obvious misery. I recommend this book along with LOVE IS A DOG FROM HELL, SOMETIMES YOU GET SO ALONG, POST OFFICE, FACTOTUM and another recent non-Buk Amazon pick, THE LOSERS' CLUB by Richard Perez.
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