expected a lot from this collection and im left disappointed

I put off the reading of this book for a long time. I did because I had glanced over it in the book store and felt clearly that the man who wrote so many of the poems I loved had given into his bitterness, and feelings of age induced obsolescence. To evolve into it would have brought a more complete ending to the arc of his poetical view of life. I would have loved that book. rather, the beautiful world cohen created for us where girls with flowing manes and filigree earrings getting into long cars has come apart by his pen, and in our hands as we read. The lie is found out. The sacred burned and we are left with a much less interesting take on bitterness than bukowski gave us. we are left with a man who lost faith in the world he created--and brought us all to--and more than that, lost faith in the power of his words to make those words mean something.