The Last Music Is Not Heard
It was a river in the mountains, I guess there are many
rivers in the mountains, flowing through our dreams into
death and deep pools. The water was so clear that I could
see the expressions on their faces as they looked up at me
from their glass coffins. I looked under the water and saw
an old lady smiling, she had no teeth nor hair,
I think she was the sister of Jesus, and I saw
a beautiful girl in her coffin, she was holding onto a dry
toy while trout swam across her face. There must have
been five thousand people buried in glass coffins under the
river, and I walked along the bank, looking down at them
as if they were fingers on my left hand.
źródło: The Octopus Frontier
o źródle i prawach
tekst z archiwum "american dust" (brautiganarchives.xyz); z tomu "The Octopus Frontier" (Carp Press, 1960); wpis oznaczony w archiwum jako przedruk
11.06.2026