Рэй Дуглас Брэдбери – Where Robot Mice And Robot Men Run Round In Robot Towns (страница 6)

And hung-banana jungle treats

We wandered as a jump-squirrel boy

To amble, maunder, ponder, toy

With jellies, jams and other pelf

From apple-cherry-berry shelf,

And read the names and wondered how

Clown doughnuts lay in such deep snow;

And took cosmetic chocolate-chips

To draw moustache on virgin lips.

And full of candied avarice

Blacked-out our teeth with licorice,

And grinned like devilled ham at self

Preserved in mirror-jars on shelf

And saw our eyes gone berry-blue

As all the jams this summer grew,

And bright our lips as cherry sins

And ripe our smile as pumpkin grins;

And full our mind of murder/slaughter

But clean our breath as menthol water

That in the dripped night, dark and still

The old dog laps from icebox sill.

Boy Pope behold! Dog Bishop see!

Twin celebrants in dark pantry

Where all the pontiff’s orbs are kept:

Crabapple multitudes, sweet slept.

Confessional the cubby seems

Where dog and boy feed naked dreams

And wash it all in innocence

From parsley/pickle/peppermints,

To in the half-lit wild of dawn

Uncoil in cartwheels on the lawn

And teach drab cats to catnip take

And Christian fasts call forth and break.

Then up the stairs the saved child creeps

And icebox-hid the sly dog sleeps

And none to know their midnight sins

Are stashed and slept in pantry bins.

And what the moral in this lies?

Stop boys. Leash dogs. Swat bugs. Squash flies.

Prohibit such from pantry reach,

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