‘Twas the night before printing, when all through the Rails<\/p>\n
Not a member was scribbling, not even those with net sales;<\/p>\n
The final drafts were laid on the tables with care,<\/p>\n
In hopes that a publisher soon would be there;<\/p>\n
The Railers were tossing all askew in their beds,<\/p>\n
While visions of Robert Scott\u2019s The Corridor<\/em> danced in their heads;<\/p>\n And with his dog in a ‘kerchief, Bobby Dorr tossed buck-naked,<\/p>\n Both dreamt, so content, on the journey they had taken.<\/p>\n When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,<\/p>\n Bobby sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.<\/p>\n On his way to the window, he tripped \u2013 what a klutz \u2013<\/p>\n Then struggled too long propping it open \u2013 what a putz!<\/p>\n His eyes finally fell on the breast of a hooker below,<\/p>\n Bringing lust to his loins \u2013 oh, how he wished he could go!<\/p>\n When what to his wandering eyes did appear,<\/p>\n But a broken-down Buick and a schmuck screaming for beer!<\/p>\n That fat drunken bastard so reeking and sick,<\/p>\n Bobby knew in an instance; it must be that prick.<\/p>\n More vile than venom, Dutton\u2019s curses they came,<\/p>\n As he vomited and shouted, for he had forgotten his name:<\/p>\n “Not Robert! Not Gary! Not Garrett!\u00a0Not Mergler!<\/p>\n Oh, come on now, damn it! It\u2019s not Victor nor Verner!<\/p>\n Just to lay on my couch! Just to find my front door!<\/p>\n I\u2019ll buy a book, any book \u2013 hell, I\u2019ll buy two, three, or four!<\/p>\n Just get me home by the mornin\u2019 or my wife\u2019ll have my ass!<\/p>\n But if she meets us at the door, you\u2019d better save your own ass!\u201d<\/p>\n Stumbling up the sidewalk, Dutton\u2019s curses still flew;<\/p>\n Towards his car filled with booze, that fat drunkard spewed.<\/p>\n And then, in a twinkling, Bobby heard the car start;<\/p>\n Oh, how he had hoped it was just that fat bastard\u2019s fart!<\/p>\n As Bobby shook out the cobwebs that were still hanging around,<\/p>\n Down the chimney Dan Verner came with a bound.<\/p>\n Dan was dressed in black latex, from his head to his foot,<\/p>\n So his clothes were not tarnished with ashes and soot;<\/p>\n With bundles of contracts strapped to his back,<\/p>\n He looked like Quasimodo carrying a sack.<\/p>\n His eyes\u2014how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!<\/p>\n His cheeks were like roses, yet his breath smelled like sherry!<\/p>\n He winked as he wiped the sweat off his brow,<\/p>\n And grinned hard at Bobby before whispering a vow;<\/p>\n The stump of a cigar he held firm in his teeth,<\/p>\n And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;<\/p>\n He had a kind gentle face and washboard-like abs,<\/p>\n For Planet Fitness had gotten rid of his flab.<\/p>\n He was chiseled and solid, a man made from raw steel \u2013<\/p>\n Bobby gasped when he saw him, before starting to squeal.<\/p>\n One flick of Dan\u2019s wrists and his biceps did flex,<\/p>\n But Bobby just stood there admiring Dan\u2019s pecs;<\/p>\n Dan spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,<\/p>\n And he fixed Bobby\u2019s typos while berating the jerk.<\/p>\n While handing Bobby his bill, a sarcastic joke he crowed,<\/p>\n Dan gave a nod of his head and out the door he strode.<\/p>\n He sprang to his Porsche, to his publisher gave a whistle,<\/p>\n And away they both drove out of town, quick as a missile.<\/p>\n But Bobby heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cHappy Christmas to all, and to all a good write!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" ‘Twas the night before printing, when all through the Rails Not a member was scribbling, not even those with net sales; The final drafts were laid on the tables with care, In hopes that a publisher soon would be there; The Railers were tossing all…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1448,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-76082","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/76082","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1448"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=76082"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/76082\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":76087,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/76082\/revisions\/76087"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=76082"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=76082"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=76082"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}