Love is a dog from hell
Anti-Valentine’s Day with cocktails and Bukowski
Charles Bukowski, 1981
Mark Hanauer
“It’s possible to love a human being if you don’t know them too well.”
–Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski was known for being vulgar, raw, cynical, and, like many writers, ultimately lonely. His writing is often filthy, frequently misogynistic, and always obsessed with the banality of existence. Decades after his death, it still pisses people off.
Poet Victoria McArtor, co-founder—along with John Regur—of the nonprofit MUSED., has selected Bukowski as the featured poet whose work will be read at an Anti-Valentine’s Day celebration at Mixed Company as part of the organization’s POP (Poetry on Poetry) series.
McArtor’s criteria for selecting the featured poet? “Someone who speaks their raw id through short, punchy narratives; who honestly portrays the drudgery of work, relationships, and our own vices; who makes writing poetry seem easy but knows the muse will turn you down at the end of the night, making you try harder the next time to impress her,” she said. Hence, Bukowski.
“Have you seen ‘The Big Short?’” McArtor asked me when we met recently. “There’s a quote in the beginning: ‘The truth is like poetry and nobody gives a fuck about poetry.’”
McArtor wants people to care about both. Over happy hour drinks, McArtor and I talked about Bukowski, writing, love and loss, and the role words play in survival.
Words, not romance, kept the notoriously alcoholic Bukowski alive and breathing for 74 years. Romance damn near killed him; his rocky relationships with various women are well documented throughout his work. “Never envy a man his lady. Behind it all lays a living hell,” he said.
The plain-speaking, gutter-dwelling “poet laureate of the down-and-out” was heralded for telling the gritty, scummy, darkest-parts-of-your-soul truth as he saw it, regardless of the personal consequences. Telling your truth takes courage. The secret is that anybody can do it. Everyone has ideas and stories within them. Everyone has a truth to tell.
McArtor and Regur started MUSED., last summer to help people do exactly that. The organization’s raison d’etre is straightforward: “Putting poetry back into the affairs of the people. Period.” Essentially, MUSED., hopes to remove the esotericism, elitism, and intimidation so often associated with poetry.
The organization is working to develop workshops and poetry writing programs in Tulsa public schools, starting with their four-to-six-week program, Reverse Selfie. Reverse Selfie is a series of workshops that will teach high school students to think extrinsically about the world and those around them with the intention of increasing empathy. Last year, MUSED., was involved with the Bullying Prevention Rally here in Tulsa and handed out poems to the less fortunate over the holiday season in December. As it expands, the organization plans to provide workshops and events for LIFE Senior Services, Head Start students, Mental Health Oklahoma, and Camp Fire.
For the general public, MUSED.’s POP series will offer opportunities to hear and share poetry around town. McArtor hopes that through the organization and its events, she can help others find their voice and purpose.
“If everyone were writing and reading poetry more often, if they were thinking in metaphor and connecting disassociated ideas and sharing their thoughts as often as they share images of things that affect feeling, then I think our overall mental health would improve,” she said. “I’m not advocating for everyone to be poets. But I do think we can find our passions faster when we engage our subconscious in conversation.”
Therein lies the reason for the POP Series and Anti-Valentine’s Day: it’s for those who are “hungry for poetry, thirsty for empathy, and lusting for truth.”
Maybe you’ll take somebody home at the end of the night or, better still, maybe you’ll leave with a poem you’ve composed, or a newfound appreciation for Bukowski.
For more from Nicci, read her brief guide to Tulsa architecture.