Читать книгу On Malice - Ken Babstock - Страница 29

Because I am sleeping in love’s room

now, the moment will have

received a promise to wait.

The mountain will finally be rid of the town.

Wait a bit, and the mountain

you have not seen goes over your face –

The singing upgrades to ice

crystals of Saturn’s rings raking

the outer hull.

Hello, thing. The geodesic temple and

your dress in your mouth signalling to

the western squirrel at the gap.

Summer 1980, incident at 12:30, nearing 4000 m, Nizhneangarsk.