I crawled up the ladder so I could look down through this hole in the roof. Snaky dragon-things don’t bother me, but when dudes are swinging hammers at a stone statue, rock-chips fly like bullets.
Can I come home now, Wizzo?
You’re not still P.O.ed about what I said l ast week
about people who read The New Yorker, are you?
NOTE FROM THE WIZARD: For those of you who may have missed it, Indiana’s exact words were:
“Yes, The New Yorker is a high-tone literary magazine.
Anyone who reads it is a snob. Wizzo reads it.
I’m sure I’ll get it trouble for saying that,
but I gotta call’em like I see’em.“