“The Pleasures of the Damned: Bukowski on Prozac”
After having been beaten over the head with some pretty damn good stuff over the past 10 years, a decade-length installment which has left me generally Bukowski-less despite my four books of his on my shelf (Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit, Love is a … Continue reading “The Pleasures of the Damned: Bukowski on Prozac”
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