Читать книгу Because the Sun - Sarah Burgoyne - Страница 16

WHAT WAS / ENFANCE aer Rimbaud this sun, murder groo,dune among naked bodies, sky’s zero in myglass; think through it. a babbling sound through my days. it flowsaround me, through the sun, then closer tome. midnight nails its hour tothe wall, atthe edgeof the room – the dream plant in a pot of gold – beside cups of ink, the plant’s contraptions, the silence of the plant and its reaching and aging. the born moon, the figuring,the forgoen shirt, and soon i shall havethis sound in me. and thatsound. • hereisthe closedroom, behind the chrysanthemums, the deadlittle room and its mat of astroturf,the whole sky is luminous (in the room), and the great obstacle iswhathas already taken place. genius is this power of dying.her tragic love of life. you followhello tothe sound of a friend. the castle isnow open. you may goinside. the women who have given themselves are hanged in unbelievable cruelty.surrounded by smellsand roingmeat. (20)