Читать книгу They Don't Kill You Because They're Hungry, They Kill You Because They're Full - Mark Bibbins - Страница 16

In Which the Pathetic Fallacy Wants to Even More

Frankly I don’t follow this

strategy of yours wherein you

tell half the people on the island

you are a barista and the other

half that you are a barrister

and they buy it.

Everyone else

believes and I continue to serve

as your wing-man as we snake

among the aloe spikes.

You keep me so busy,

thwarting my every attempt

to find again a favorite stretch

of beach, when all I wanted

was to show you the pirate bar

with the swings.

What else

has prevented me: relatives, railroad

tracks, paralysis, thickets of killed

umbrellas, cliffs impossible to scale,

a weeping jaguar, the fact

that it was 5:30, squishy brakes,

money, all my bent

and voided sleep.

I wish I had

some idea but to admit I have

any at all is to risk that it is full

of a sad nothing.

Huge lizards the color

of banged-up charcoal are shredding

one another beyond a cluster

of palms, their hisses curling the flat

green leaves and then disbanding

into the waves.

That’s a surfeit

of strategy right there but your faith

is still big enough to fit in a kayak

that could be drifting in or away.