READING MY NEW MONSTER POEM IN THE WORKS, BOIL THE HEAD OF ANYTHING, OVER THE PHONE TO MY POOR MOTHER

"You don't think that's funny?"

"Not in the least."

"How do you not think that's funny?"

"It's repulsive. I don't know why you have to be so crude."

"I can't control how it comes out. It comes out how it comes out. I guess you wouldn't want to hear the next part then."

"What is it?"

"Well, I go into a couple lines about watching a camel slaughter and becoming a Muslim Republican and don't pay your taxes for five years, oh, and then chase a skunk naked at night with a headlamp and a hammer... And then it goes (haha), it goes, jack off to an old picture of your mother."

"OH, PHILBY! GOOD GOD!"

"What? It's just a poem."