Phases. Mischa Willett
Sprezzatura
Do not, like a purse-dog,
like a show pony, bare
your infirm affection for
everyone in the colosseum
to see. Better for them
to guess at your secret
desires, your lusts
and ambition, better
for them to detect in
your stride some adroit
manner, in your eye
some devious shine, and think:
I should be careful
around this one.
They should.
Better for you to know,
and be thinking, there is
a tangle of passages
and thruways intricate
as arteries teeming under
the gladiatorial contest.
A Lie, their Hands
at the Bocca Della Verita
Here’s the spot they stitched
the coin of his face back into
itself; you can trace
with your finger the rough
splice running over his eye
where someone tried to make
it look as though the circle hadn’t
broken, that truth was still spoken
from the mouth thereof
and people hadn’t lined up to tell a lie,
their hands shoved down his throat.
It says something about our senses
of restoration, no? And something else
about the past. What, exactly?
Ask.
Mnemesis
My students rib
me all the time:
you know who you look
like? Scipio Africanus,
the Roman general who
finally defeated Hannibal
and his elephants
to close the Punic
trouble.
It doesn’t bother me,
usually, but I do tire
of hearing the history bit.
Hannibal and the elephants!
As if I could forget!
Place Order Here
Her line of well-wishers extends
around the counter where, handed
their cups, each toss a coin
into her Sunday my earshot
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.