Pynchon’s Service was started by Egan
And some vindictive icemongers from Rome.
Inherent Vice had a table— Dhalgren
Sat there (for him, Lot Forty-nine was Home).
Gravity’s Rainbow was invisible,
Arching over Lot Fifty-four, crying
“What has become of my friend Samuel?”
Mason and Dison sent regards, bleeding.
Salmon Rushdie went to that school with Greg,
Where Donald Barthelme had the helm, busy
As Humpty Dumpty, fragile as an egg.
Wintersun, Wodehouse, and R Delany…
In Pynchon’s Service, nineteen seventy—
Like Algonquin, with more obscenity.
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