I'm Sorry W.G Sebald

When I pick up The Rings Of Saturn
I fall into a horrible pattern.
I open the cover and see the first page--
That net-covered window, that comfort cage,
Is maybe the only image that I understand,
but my eyes lose focus and can't see a strand
of the words you put one after the other
in sentences that seem to go on forever.
I always fall asleep at the same part,
the page with the cadaver and his open heart.
I'm trying my best to finish but perhaps it's not too dire,
I've tried to read you more than Nabokov's Pale Fire.