I spent considerable time this morning
murdering my darlings, though
I am convinced the time would have been
better spent hunting down old Quiller-Couch,
but his advice given, he had left town.
It wouldn’t have been an issue, really
but in my damned manuscript, I had a gun early on.
It was just to be ready in case, and only in case
I happen to meet the Buddha,
but Henrik was probably right,
and once the gun was introduced
what choice did I really have?
Truth told, it is all Linji’s fault really,
though I do so admire him, but in my next book
I’ll just go along with Dongshan, any writer ought
to be able to deal with three pounds of flax.
Sadly, though, my novel has now been
reduced to an extremely short story.