Читать книгу Alamo Theory - Josh Bell - Страница 6

Dollar Dollar Bill

One more Jacobean kiss

and you’ll wind up related to me.

One more emotion

and I’m coming for you, like a sparrow.

Set your phenomenology

on the windowsill.

Filthy, meet Family. Family,

I want to get marketable again.

In the meantime, what are your thoughts

on a completely male garden?

As little closure, maybe, as there is

a permanence? This being, also, the time

of the wandering Miss Americas.

Loose thumb-bones, rattling

in a mint tin. One more emotion

and both Dakotas will explode.

One more condition

and I’ll be exiting my relevance.

And what was it, finally,

so dead about him, Family?

I think I just saw a fox.

Yes, with its little foxen teeth,

like Ezekiel’s. Of course, you were off busy,

revising your plague journals.

Bringing clock to the beltline

of Orion. What could’ve you done

about the remaining days

no longer outnumbering us?

Voice of the dying groupie

like a deck of cards being shuffled.

One last electromagnetic pulse,

one last electromagnetic pulse,

and the neutral bodies of the dead

dropping from our larger, living bodies.

The truth? I thought the castration threat

a touch on the heavy side of the tonality.

But you got your point across.

And by then, we were a much

cleaner people, anyway.