Читать книгу Lasagne - Wayne Holloway-Smith - Страница 5

2 Lasagne too-sad my ribs gift-wrapped in fatfat – god forgive me man we were so small and reckoned our bodies wrong – too-tight not ours to keep o lordlord – we grew up smoking and checking our waistswaists – your damp palm mine in its place – you didn’t want this lifelife let’s pretend it’s happening anyway – didn’t want this meal let’s make believe: lasagne moving silent peas across a plate chips and cheese – I forgot myself how to eateat and you burnt calories o ff your forkfork and me burning calories o ff my fi ngers – and you set a match to your own arm – fl ame – bellowing up my r e d l u o h s now smoke spilling up over your browbrow – the edges of my frame are scribbled out – we’re taking up so little space turning our t s u d t o h - k n i p h t r a e h t r a e praise be – I can’t remember the girth of our name