Gary Panter blog

SNOW STORM
a poem by Gary Panter

Get it there next week.
I'm on the plane.
We're on the runway waiting.
Get it there next week.
I don't care about that.

We're going to the exit. I have to hang up.
I'm in the terminal.

Hey, Beano.
How are you?
Yeah?
I'd like to swing by this week and talk over that BIG SWIG account.
Wednesday would be good.
I'll be in Washington on Thursday, so that's out.
OK. Thanks for giving me a big head's up on the EMEKRON thing.
No.

I am so sick of covering up for that guy. He is a stupid idiot.
Yeah.
I'm writing a resume for that chump and he's like What about the paper I wrote for the Harvard Review? And I say it shouldn't be on there, that it's not relevant to what he's trying to do, which is pull the wool over the eyes of the local voters in this little shit hole, and he's freaking out. No one cares if he has an article in the Harvard Review. He says You never heard of the Harvard Review? and I say I didn't go to Harvard and he says Neither did I, but I know what the Harvard Review is.
What a fucking idiot. I am fucking sick of this shit.
Ok, bye, Ma. Luv ya.

Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?Yeah?

I hadn't worked out in a week so I went to the gym.
I have bronchitis and I couldn't breathe and I had to go to the emergency room and they gave me some steroids and I got OK.
They're telling us to hang up.