Читать книгу Scarecrow - Robert Fernandez - Страница 13

if i offend you with my leniency

If I offend you with my leniency,

I am like a bird with smoked tendons

roughening the hues, fanning my eyes;

my love is a red die rolling in the void

—

And who whistles the empty

pot that burns in your kitchen?

Everything screams

pointless and damage

damage d-a-m-a-g-e, I

see a kite stuck in a tree

I see a hand thinning and

portents dissolving like fat

—

I cultivate a certain dying I find it

rare, that is my way; I comb it

with exceeding carefulness from

my nerves, delicately as a kite

—

I am the brown bittered

fig skinned with tomb

leeks in brown sauce

and a winking eye

like a suede curtain

—

and am soles of the feet

gold that clicks

its tongue against the roof

of the mouth rafraf rafraf