Читать книгу The Glass Constellation - Arthur Sze - Страница 18

Dropping circles of gold paper,

before he dies,

onto Piazza San Marco;

pulling a U-turn

and throwing the finger;

a giant puffball

filling the car

with the smell of almonds;

a daykeeper pronounces the day,

“Net”;

slits a wrist,

writes the characters revolt

in blood on a white T-shirt;

a dead bumblebee

in the greenhouse;

the flaring tail of a comet,

desiccated vineyard,

tsunami;

a ten-dimensional

form of go;

slicing abalone on the counter—

sea urchins

piled in a Styrofoam box;

honeydew seeds

germinating in darkness.