I have just spent one-hour-and-a-half handicapping tomorrow`s card. when am I going to get at the poems? well, they`ll just have to wait they`ll have to warm their feet in the anteroom where they`ll sit gossiping about me. "this Chinaski, doesn`t he realize that without us he would have long ago gone mad, been dead?" "he knows, but he thinks he can keep us at his beck and call!" "he`s an ingrate!" "let`s give him writer`s block!" "yeah!" "yeah!" "yeah!" the little poems kick up their heels and laugh. then the biggest one gets up and walks toward the door. "hey, where are you going?" he is asked. "somewhere where I am appreciated." then, he and the others vanish. I open a beer, sit down at the machine and nothing happens. like now. from the 1997 Black Sparrow New Year`s greeting, "A New War"SourceThe script ran 0.003 seconds.
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