Saturday, October 03, 2009
My Hat
Bucket thing, keeping brutal
Florida sun off my literal
red neck. Wag busdriver
cracks “What dumpster
you dig that outa?” But
guy in Winn-Dixie blurts
“What a great hat!” It’s
bleached and near-
ly shapeless. Doesn’t
resemble Mastroianni’s
wingy-dark lid in 8 ½,
a film seeking to raise
Director’s Block
to more culturally
revered Writer’s.
I hear Ed G Robinson
yelling “Block, my ass!
What the fuck they paying
your precious ass for?”
Art compels vulgarity.
Labels: director's block, style, writer's block
