this could be heaven or this could be another Wing Nuts entry!
(apparently God’s favorite drink is the screwdriver)
KYLE Katz takes us on a tour of the Infernal Writ–oops!–ETERNAL Writer’s Club with her favorite wingman, Mike Stang. Somebody care to buy the lady a drink?
Dead and living in New York
By KYLE Katz
What a way to die. “Woman falls from platform shoes into an oncoming bus…in New York traffic!”
It’s like a freaking maze in this city. I guess I just have to wing it!
My instructions from Deepak Chopra…find meaning with-in yourself. Only the right door can get you in the ‘Eternal Writers Club.’
I’m dead. And now discover the tunnel of light I’m suppose to ride my utopian Trojan horse of words through… is in a bar?
Bars covered with notable writers of literature– mostly old white men– with problems. Drinking, drug and sex addictions, tormented souls. Where’s the diversity? Where’s Toni Morrison, Victor Villesenor, or Amy Tan?
New York’s nightclub, ‘Spoonerism and Puns sign,’ flashed on and off.
This is it!
I burst through the door. On center stage, Leonard Cohen’s rusty plea sang Halleluiahs.
My literary wingman Stang, said I wouldn’t recognize him in the afterlife, so he’d be wearing short pants and a long red jacket, sitting at the bar waiting for me.
Unknown authors, lost poets, misfits and… Stang. There he is!
“Hey babe, been expecting you.”
A shot glass of New York’s finest brandy, clung to my lips. I scanned the room– a writer’s almanac of divine insanity.
Maya Angelou approached me. Yes, Me!
“Welcome to ‘Eternal Writers Club.’
Stang’s defeated eyes sank. “Eternal- as in never ending. You can start a book…but you can’t finish. Have another shot, my dear. Sip slowly.”
“So this is Hell!” Crap!