Читать книгу Rodeo in Reverse - Lindsey Alexander - Страница 15

Оглавление

Easter’s over, meaning it’s time again to resurrect

my vices. Did that boulder Sisyphus was lugging ever

roll anywhere? Me, I prefer a scrappy Prometheus thieving

fire when spring swells tired: every dawn another liver.

In Savannah, Sherman marched but did not burn;

and in that respect we differ because you see,

I want to burn it all. First vice: quick to ire, second:

pride, the most maligned. The antidote? Last season’s leftover ashes

which I’d spread on my forehead to level it, to square it,

to remind me of strange sin until I can’t abide it.

In heaven, I’ll still wait to hear ammo made of gold drop, drop