Читать книгу Repetition Nineteen - Mónica de la Torre - Страница 34

Behind a gliding glass door, a wall made of blocks of ash

demarcates a small tangible patio.

A window-shaped opportunity frames a shrub

with many subsidiaries growing on the slope.

Or intends to incriminate, if we can attribute intentionality to a hole.

The shrub, like all living things, surpasses the border’s edges.

A couple of grimy authorities outside, of a shadow

of sadness suspended amid deep sky blue and azure.

Before one another and hollow, their character mirrors

the plastic in a dissolute dustpan and broom at the outer edge,

tilting toward the dirt, as if to raid it.

The debt-free agents distress the authorities.

Three ghosts behind the vanished hue:

non-naturalized, methane-derived, once associated with ether.

Four continuous, finite channels, all announcing nothing:

a screech, a hammering, a mermaid, a ring.

Wrecking five. The superior nerves of the patio’s walls and an angu-

lar adjacent roof jut against the landscape to bring geometry into an

invasive focus. The structure knows what to do there.