There is a tendency for writers of fiction and poetry to excel in one and not in the other. Hemingway's one book of poetry testifies to this phenomenon; likewise, poet E. E. Cummings published his only novel The Enormous Room to mediocre reviews. With Bukowski, there's little thematic variation in the scope of his work, so it's unlikely he'll receive any posthumous prizes. Though for the reader who cannot get enough of his fiction, Bukowski's poetry is accessible, familiar, and unpretentious.

Having written this several years ago, and having given Hemingway's poetry further consideration, perhaps I followed too closely the conventional critical assessment of his poems and judged him too harshly. In fact, many of Hemingway's Stein-influenced poems have much in common with the bawdry, drunken, unaffected Bukowski. For Bukowski fans, Hemingway's poems may well be worth the reading investment.