The title of my yet unpublished manuscript is Wheel in a Ditch
because everybody I know is trapped.
So, you know, like trying to pull out
or looking over the edge into it and they're frightened,
or they're down in it and they don't want to come out.
I always sort of think of them as struggling to get out
and yet somehow resigned to it.
And so I just call it Wheel in a Ditch and this little epigraph
before.
And it's from somewhere among us the stone taking notes
by Charles Simic.
And I won't read the whole thing.
I just paraphrase-- the last two lines of the quoted thing is
"He who cannot howl will not find his pack."
And that's sort of the guiding force of my manuscript.
"He who cannot howl will not find his pack."
Sometimes you howl and you find the right--
you find the wrong one.
The joke's on you.
You howl, you don't find anybody, but once in a while
you just scream for help and there's someone there.
And it's real good, you know?
OK, I'm beginning now.
Lois, Where's my water though?
Oh, it's really gin.
Now, if you can't hear something let me know.
I won't think that's rude.
That kind of interruption.
But no questions.
If I think something's pertinent maybe I'll tell you,
maybe I won't.