diliberate or unintentional, of vanity.
I am no writer. If I were a writer I would not write,
but lounge the pool side drinking margaritas.
Writers make money, money produces largess etc.
No, I am no writer.
Hemingway was not a writer.
He was an alcoholic of such epic proportion
that his misogyny cowered off the page. Yellow with fear at life-
no - jaundiced with love of himself.
He is no superhero.
To die in waves of green fairies,
while ambitious to the smallest of stature
is a shaky, craven end. The cork, spit across a table,
is forgotten by the connoisseur.
A writer, a gourmand of folklore, drains the emerald waves.
We are delighted and take his shotgun away.