By Emily Black, Guest Columnist As a teen, Charles Bukowski was my favorite poet. What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire, and You Get So Alone At Times That it Just Makes Sense were books I frequently reread and quoted on my social media. It’s true. I fell in love with the melancholy words written by a misogynistic, overly-simplistic, raging alcoholic.
Charles Bukowski Made Me a Bad Feminist
Charles Bukowski Made Me a Bad Feminist
Charles Bukowski Made Me a Bad Feminist
By Emily Black, Guest Columnist As a teen, Charles Bukowski was my favorite poet. What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire, and You Get So Alone At Times That it Just Makes Sense were books I frequently reread and quoted on my social media. It’s true. I fell in love with the melancholy words written by a misogynistic, overly-simplistic, raging alcoholic.