It is ten o’clock
my printer pukes out many pages
I will never read.
You want art? Sorry, he don’t live here.
Addendum, 10:10
Who can deny me
the sublime pleasures found in
slapping pink bottoms?
Headlines tomorrow: Area Woman, Found Chained To Printer; Apparently Starved To Death Waiting For Print Job To Finish
I feel your pain. Which is why I’m not heading to grad school, though I could well wind up living in Portland in a few short years.
When you get to Portland, I’ll probably be heading off to New York. That would be pretty ironic-stupid, huh?
Not as ironic/stupid as if I lived in New York now. What would be hell for you is just having to switch places with me and live in wonderful Cape Girardeau, Missouri, Home of Rush Limbaugh. Yergh.
It could be worse. You could be entirely masochistic and just be a chronic LEXIS/NEXIS freak, emailing yourself hundreds of articles under the aegis of “research” (because apparently you need to know every aspect of something stupid), only to entirely disregard all the notes, clippings and printouts you collected, watching them languish in a goddam drawer, write other forms of prose and never even bother to finish the novel. And this from a guy who’s never even BEEN a grad.
Even worse than that: William Gaddis dying of cancer, trying to find some damned way of making sense of his 50 year attempt to write a history of the player piano. The result: “Agape Agape” — something anyone who has researched anything or remotely angry about the generalities of the world can relate to. And, ironically enough, his shortest book ever at 100 or so pages.
Mmm…Lexis/Nexis.