Читать книгу Li'l Bastard - David McGimpsey - Страница 17

Maybe I shouldn’t have highfived the priest.

Maybe it was a mistake to fall asleep

at the Don Ho anniversary show.

Still, I forgave myself at Crookback’s Pub.

I invented a laptop with cupholders.

Previously, my sole innovation

had been putting my hand in my pocket

to give people the finger while they talked.

I longed for the road and the good things in life:

the warm breeze, eating chips while riding shotty,

selling rifles just over the Mexican border

to a compound of polygamists.

Those people who say you can’t run away

from your problems aren’t really trying.

I left my lease on St. Lawrence Street.

Off to Brownsville. Commence-toi la gris.