Читать книгу The Glass Constellation - Arthur Sze - Страница 51

Your father had gangrene and

had his right leg amputated, and now has diabetes

and lives in a house overlooking the

uranium mines.

The wife of the clown at Moenkopi

smashes in the windows of a car with an ax,

and threatens to shoot her husband

for running around with another woman.

A child with broken bones

is in the oxygen tent for the second time;

and the parents are concerned he

has not yet learned how to walk.

People mention these incidents

as if they were points on a chart depicting

uranium disintegration. It is all

accepted, all disclaimed.

We fly a kite over the electrical

lines as the streetlights go on:

the night is silver, and the night

desert is a sea. We walk back

to find your grandfather working in the dark,

putting in a post to protect peaches,

watering tomatoes, corn, beans—making them grow

out of sand, barren sand.