Читать книгу Monica's Overcoat of Flesh - Geraldine Clarkson - Страница 10

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words:

forget your own people and your father’s house.

– Psalm 44 (45)

Whistle, chica.

Whisht. Give your ear

close and flutter. And flutter.

Eat in all you can hear.

Grow rotund on it, fit

as a fiddler’s wife’s

cat. There are other kinds

of right learning. Cause

you know. Cause you hear.

Bilge goes out with the suds.

A chain of Cheyennes

touches the lodge of

an enemy. You explode

flat on the floor. Fat

on fear. Flayed

with sharp, and hot, and not.