*Hemingway with cat, from here
About a non-typing night by Charles Bukowski
She phones, "You done any writing?"
"No", I say
"What ya been doing?"
"Nothing."
"Is there anybody there with you?"
"Just the cat."
"And you haven't done any writing?"
"No."
"Do you feel all right"?
"I 'm ok."
"How come you haven't phoned?"
"I did", I tell her.
"That was earlier" (Pause)
"And you haven't done any writing?"
"No".
Writing is not a God damned job.
I 've had lots of God damned jobs.
And if writing ever gets to be a
God damned job,
I ll look for another one.
I know she means well,
I do too.
