Decided to compose a haiku every day behind the wheel as I dealt with the back pain and boredom of driving three thousand miles in five days.
FIRST NIGHT WEST
Outside of Pittsburgh
Quality Inn pool broken
No laps for breakfast
Busted in PA.
Fifteen above the limit.
I get a warning.
DAY 4: KANSAS
Abandoned gas pumps
The World’s Largest Prairie Dog
Okay, there are two day missing. I’ll get them up tomorrow.
My new book got mentioned and I got quoted in the Times real-estate section today. About bohemian neighborhoods in general and Williamsburg in particular, of course. Unfortunately, it’s another three months before the book comes out; I don’t generally remember what I read in the Times yesterday.
Dixon was alive again. Consciousness was upon him before he could get out of the way; not for him the slow, gracious wandering from the halls of sleep, but a summary, forcible ejection. He lay sprawled, too wicked to move, spewed up like a broken spider crab on the tarry shingle of the morning. The light did harm, but not as much as looking at things did; he resolved, having done it once, never to move his eyeballs again. A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he’d somehow been on a cross-country run and then been beaten up by secret police. He felt bad.
- Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis
Plus a bonus link to a web post reviewing five great drinking novels: http://thehighhat.com/Marginalia/007/drinking_pierce.html