User:Chelsey.brantley/sandbox: Difference between revisions
Added "I" to the top of the first section |
No edit summary |
||
Line 5: | Line 5: | ||
{{Working}} <!-- EDIT BELOW THIS LINE --> | {{Working}} <!-- EDIT BELOW THIS LINE --> | ||
{{Byline|last=Apple|first=Max|url= | {{Byline|last=Apple|first=Max|note=Reprinted by permission of the author, Max Apple. From {{cite book |last= |first= |date= |title=The Oranging of America |url= |location=New York |publisher=Viking |year=1976 |pages=49-60 |ref=harv }}|url=....}} | ||
==I== | ==I== | ||
So what if I could kick the shit out of Truman Capote, and who really cares that once in a Newark bar, unknown to each other, I sprained the wrist of E.L. Doctorow in a harmless arm wrestle. For years I’ve kicked around in out-of-the-way places, sparred for a few bucks or just for kicks with the likes of Scrap Iron Johnson, Phil Rahv,Kenny Burke, and | So what if I could kick the shit out of Truman Capote, and who really cares that once in a Newark bar, unknown to each other, I sprained the wrist of E.L. Doctorow in a harmless arm wrestle. For years I’ve kicked around in out-of-the-way places, sparred for a few bucks or just for kicks with the likes of Scrap Iron Johnson, Phil Rahv, Kenny Burke, and Chico Vejar. But, you know, I’m getting older too. When I feel the quick arthritic pains fly through my knuckles, I ask myself, Where are your poems and novels? Where are your long-limbed girls with cunts like tangerines? Yes, I’ve had a few successes. There are towns in America where people recognize me on the street and ask what I’m up to these days. ‘’I’m thirty-three,” I tell them, “in the top of my form. I’m up to the best. I’m up to Norman Mailer.” |