Читать книгу My Ariel - Sina Queyras - Страница 9

Feelings are a hopeless theory.

Daily I fall from grace, the big

Splash, whatever.

I should have been an epic,

Eaten footnotes, married

Architecture, swirling through my twenties

In classics and couture. Poetry

Is the big lie. Oh sure, love crashed

Into my life, a dark pillar of flight,

A walking muscle with a slick

Of black hair. Soon it was legal.

A swoon of potential swelled

In the bowl of my hips. I stared

Into his heart but like the emperor

I was too vain, I said, What a tower,

What a prize! Brute love that

Line by line we indulged, so crazed

We wrote until we tasted

The last of it and stunned ourselves

With our emptiness.

I should have gone to Hollywood.

If you’re going to be a trophy

You might as well go for gold.

Stop at nothing, you who are

Ambitious. Let me tell you this:

There is nothing like an income

To cheer, nothing but

Humourlessness to fear.