Couldn't possibly disagree more. There have been few poets in the world that were able to provide the sense of nostalgia, relation to thought, and surprisingly poignant observations as Hank. Was he intelligent? Not really. Was a genius? Certainly not. Was he a good man? Couldn't be more generally abhorrent in many ways.
But the man had a special talent for observation of the human experience in his little corner of the world, and a skill to relate that experience to a wide variety of readers in their little corners of the world in a few very simple lines.
The poet laureate of back alleys and bar fights, drunken arguments and broken prostitutes, and all manner of sordid goings on in some of the dankest, and darkest pockets of the American life. But somehow able to translate those experiences into a thought provoking revelation of humanity that could touch people in all walks of life.
He was a drunken, chauvinistic, abusive, degenerate gambling, self centered asshole. But I rarely discuss American poetry with anyone without his name coming up, and for good reason. His writing went beyond the word, the line, the rhyme, the structure, (in fact it largely completely ignored it) and got straight to the only important thing that poems provide. Feeling. His poems are probably the most structurally and subjectively ugly that can be found. It some of the most beautiful work I have ever read.
That being said, on this particular subject, he is clearly applying his own (very understandable in his case) opinion to the general population. Some things work for him, other things work for others. That's just the way it is.