Читать книгу Li'l Bastard - David McGimpsey - Страница 13

When I put on my silk suit and pince-nez,

I hap to think upon the treading verse

of McCawmber Hextall. ‘Hush, pale stone,

there’ll be no more magnets for you!’

Oh, I enjoyed the poster stand in Sears,

so much so I spent a Christmas Eve

in the juvie docket the same day I smacked

Manny Destrine just for being Manny.

I would have stolen a bedroom poster

of Carolyn Forché if I’d seen the jacket

photo from The Country Between Us —

I settled for Kathy Ireland all the same.

In the can, I wrote my very worst poem.

The poem went, ‘I know where you live, pig,’

and basically just repeated that line.

Hush, pale stone, I live in the hip Plateau.