Member-only story
Shattered Glass
*
THE STORY OF A SUFFERING SON OF A BITCH (Fragment)
One night skin and bones came to my door, wet, battered, fearful
it was a white cat with a ribbon
let him in, fed him, was one more in the house
developed a certain loving confidence in me
until one day an acquaintance,
parking in the garage
he passed his car on top of the white cat…
Sometimes they do interviews, they wish to know
of my life, of my literature,
I get drunk, I hold my cat in my arms
bugger, gunshot wound, run over twice, rabid
and I say, “Look, look at this!” ”
they don’t understand anything, I insist, nothing of nothing, they ask
something like: “do you recognize Celine’s influences? ”
“no” I pick up my cat “for what happens, with things
like this, like this! ”.
shake my cat i carry him
into the hazy light by smoke and alcohol, he’s relaxed, he knows..
this is the moment the interview ends…