Читать книгу By the Numbers - James Richardson - Страница 15

Classic Bar Scenes

I. Apollo at Happy Hour

Shoulders and faint sheen

of lotion, torsion,

loose dress sliding

over flanks of glass,

silks so utterly watery

splashing, as you click along the shine,

on left shin right shin, but alas

the chase is a tired

and tiring metaphor:

let’s sit. It is

your Beauty that is omnipotent,

and I the god its constant

victim, automatic

as the keyboard you reach over

accidentally typing with a breast

aaaaiiiiyyyyesssss,

as the copier you press

with a page and another page

that lights again and again your face.

Hear my song:

I will walk out of the 14th floor

and into your ear like a wireless call.