Читать книгу Thunderbird - Dorothea Lasky - Страница 11

Why it is a Black Life

Why is it a black life

Because nothing is permanent

And everything goes on and on not meaning anything

Because I am an animal

And I will always be displaced

Until I die

Because I am a human

And other humans will constantly think of new ways to kill me

And it will be loneliness until the end

Which will be more or less lonely

Because until then I eat by myself

And ignore everyone

Despite the fact that they look at me

With their empty eyeholes

And I read a book and am unable to nest with it

Because I say things

In the simplest way possible

And am constantly misunderstood

Because even when I mean well

I am still a criminal

And it is noon always

Hot sun beating on the blacktop

With the red bird endlessly flying

Because my feet and arms don’t move

Unless I want them to

Because when they do

Move on their own

It is frightening

Because what is worse than terror

Is not terror

But health

Which is transitory

Which is often the worst friend of all

Because I sigh and sigh

And it sounds like a dog baying

And no one wants to help me

Because I am ugly, obnoxious, and insane

Because the only living things that like the sound of my voice

Are the vermin underneath the earth

Who are waiting for me to come join them