Читать книгу Dead Man's Float - Jim Harrison - Страница 15

The Present

I’m sitting on the lip of this black hole, a well

that descends to the center of the earth.

With a big telescope aimed straight down

I see a red dot of fire and hear the beast howling.

My back is suppurating with disease,

the heart lurches left and right,

the brain sings its ditties.

Everywhere blank white movies wait to be seen.

The skylark flew within inches of the rocks

before it stopped and rose again.

The cost of flight is landing.