Читать книгу Hustle - David Tomas Martinez - Страница 16

9.

At nine

years old

I sat in

understudy

at the bar,

worshiping

Shirley Temples.

Grandpa smiled

and said

Let’s go

as I chewed

a maraschino,

Dante’s devil,

a cherry

in nine

rings of ice.

I finished

the meat,

threw down

the stem.

I laughed,

enjoying

the tart tingle

of grandpa’s

old,

red bones

teetering

in beer.