A notebook with wine stains is a perfect image that precisely conveys Bukowski's attitude toward officialdom. It is on such unattractive pages that the rebel poet, who all his life created a reputation as a "lost man," "old goat," and factotum, could write down his thoughts on life, people, and literature. He deliberately reduces the pathos: "A disjointed essay on poetics and damn life, written while drinking a six-pack," "An old drunkard who was no longer lucky," "An old goat confesses" are some titles of essays included in this book. "I threw myself at my personal god — SIMPLICITY," he admitted. Anyone who reads this book will see that this simplicity is deceptive. And the black humor, cynicism, and coarseness are a mask behind which hides a vulnerable, sensitive, suffering man.