Женщины

Chapter 91

           Pathadablackbeardandlonghair.Hesatdownontheflooratmyfeet.

           "I’mapoet,"hesaid.

           Itookaswallowofwine.

           "Howdoyougoaboutgettingpublished?"heaskedme.

           "Yousubmitittotheeditors."

           "ButI’munknown."

           "Everybodystartsoutunknown."

           "Igivereadings3nightsaweek.AndI’manactorsoIreadverywell.IfigureifIreadmystuffenoughsomebodymightwanttopublishit."

           "It’snotimpossible."

           "TheproblemisthatwhenIreadnobodyshowsup."

           "Idon’tknowwhattotellyou."

           "I’mgoingtoprintmyownbook."

           "Whitmandid."

           "Willyoureadsomeofyourpoems?"

           "Christ,no."

           "Whynot?"

           "Ijustwanttodrink."

           "Youtalkaboutdrinkingalotinyourbooks.Doyouthinkdrinkinghashelpedyourwriting?"

           "No.I’mjustanalcoholicwhobecameawritersothatIwouldbeabletostayinbeduntilnoon."

           IturnedtoSara."Ididn’tknowyouhadsomanyfriends."

           "Thisisunusual.It’shardlyeverlikethis."

           "I’mgladwe’vegotplentyofwine."

           "I’msurethey’llbeleavingsoon,"shesaid.

           Theothersweretalking.TheconversationdriftedandIstoppedlistening.Saralookedgoodtome.Whenshespokeitwaswithwitandincisjveness.Shehadagoodmind.PearlandJackleftfirst.ThenJeanJohn.ThenPatthepoet.RonsatononesideofSaraandIsatontheother.Justthe3ofus.Ronpouredhimselfaglassofwine.Icouldn’tblamehim,hewasherroommate.Ihadnohopeofoutwait-inghim.Hewasalreadythere.IpouredSaraawineandthenoneformyself.

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