deathbed blues
[...]
my editor is a difficult man.
I sometimes phone him in moments of doubt.
[...]
look, kid, I phone my editor, can you speak German?
no, he says.
well, anyhow, I say, I need some good new tires, cheap.
so you know where I can get some good new tires, cheap?
I'll phone you in 30 minutes, he says, will you be in
in 30 minutes?
I can't afford to go anywhere, I say.
he says, they say you were drunk at that reading
in Oregon.
ugly gossips, I answer.
[...]
holy shit, I say, hang up and take a good hit of
Old Grandad. Harry's still alive
according to the papers. but I decide rather than
getting new tires to get
a set of retreads instead.
