It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
Visit me! You can come unannounced, drunk, sober, or even leading a giraffe.
Rivers of gin and oysters.
Why did you tell that pretty girl, who was probably your sister, that I was drunk?
Muzzle a dog and he will bark out of the other end.
Instead of banning drink I will ban my limited sense of obligation.
The clouds once more bid me.
How drunk, or how drunkly sober under-drunk, can you calculate you are now?
Hurray for the wine-colored corduroy!
Sorry about last night. A sloth or mudlark would have probably been better.
No, I’m not drinking anymore. Only wine.
Malcolm Lowry’s Letters
Malcolm Lowry’s letters interest me more than his fiction (I don’t have this edition linked here, I have an earlier one). I’m not sure why that is, but hey, it’s just how it is. Here’s one of them: