can a bad man make good art?

Never mention Bukowski when commenting on a feminist blog. you can feel the chill descending, I swear. I can't blame them, the poetry is misogynist, as, most likely, was the man, but damn: a bad man can make good art, right? And how much of it was Truth and how much was stories told in first person? It's sold as poetry, not memoir. He sure doesn't make any of it sound sexy or glamorous. I don't know how to reconcile feminism with an appreciation for Bukowski, or Eminem, or most of material, visual, pop culture, for that matter. There is no escape from the patriarchy, is there?