A Sip Of Milk.
The head is cracking from a fissionable identity, the
hypostases multiply like viruses
After reinstalling the relevant programs.
Outside the window, the stations are replaced,
and countries are luring the prospects for new representations.
Under the feet, weightlessness, mixed with the sound of wheels, is given by vibration in the spinal cord.
Electronic stop sign broke.
And you do not understand where to get off,
At the next, or after one
– you need a watch.
The clock in your mobile phone
Some call to themselves –
Others want to come.
You are scattered pieces
Here and there was a suitcase in this city,
and the one in hand, was given the time to vilify
until the next morning or year? .. The
refinement of fatigue madness is short.
Regeneration of childhood has exceeded the physical age.
I forgot to drink cow’s milk.
Be kind, boiled.
Not sweet life.
Why is life not sweet?
And a cream
rosette cake. Sweeter, more polluted than the rough tongue of the lagging time?
I’m looking for my maniac.
He will find me someday,
Coming out of a dark staircase.
Abandoned dirty old house or new mansion.
heart will hit me right in a frantic beating, A heart that is dead in expectation of painful death , A shard of a
mirror looking at me.
And on my eyes, reflected in it, widened in horror. A
jet of thick, hot venous blood splashes.
And my fading blurred look
will meet with the insolent gaze of this crazy brave man.
I will say thank you to him.
After all, it was accepted in some ancient religions
The most expensive and powerful to kill, sacrificing them,
For the life of others to become …
Not so bitter.
Maybe I’m exaggerating, mistaken, wrong estimate of reality?
What my hypostasis can be the most expensive to sell?
Which one want to see me, buy, take, contain
On a capitalist market economy?
Small and stupid or dangerous cheeky little animals?
Strong or weak, smart or stupid?
Probably crazy and deep, a little lonely.
What are the wives on the human resources exchange today?
Do you want candied ginger
Or glazed cheese?
In any case, not dried pears.
You want me, yes? Lifetime
contracts do not exist,
First the trial period is three months.
Then the master of ceremonies dancing the tap dance will shout
“This is our fiance’s bride.”
I can even love you, yes?
I am tired, but I have not yet given up.
I am in battle, but not yet advanced to the front line.
I am in the ranks of the partisans, but not in the echelons of power.
I am rather an anarchist than a system worm.
I want to give life to a new person,
But I can’t recognize myself as a mother.
Many people love me,
But I already seem to be incapable of it.
God, you fascinated me
This dazzling in the silver rays dawn.
What did you whisper in my ear,
So that I could make this light my secret etiquette?
Your advertising agency works best.
Pasta is sold under a thick sauce from the pastry of sweet spiders.
Otkovyrivaya sauce from the dough and spitting thin legs,
I wonder mathematically painful subject:
What the hell did I get this life?
Lost in the myth itself.
Perplexity in the criminal case me.
Disabling the “start” button and sticking it to “off”.
As in childhood: at the start, attention, march !!!
This rhythm is sporty.
I feel the connection once again
Between the black sky and
-to- head jump down – dive …
I’m excited, drowning.
In one second, mother, father, little brother,
I open my mouth,
To say something:
… love you?
But the worms from the sea
I feel the mollusks swimming in the auricle,
Having mixed it with nacre,
Corals envelop the neck,
Pearls are put on the wrists with a thousand bracelets
My leg was numb and riveted with some kind of snag right to the bottom.
My hair fluctuates smoothly,
Fluttering to the beat of the surf
Why do I see it all down?
Where does this vigil over his decaying body come from?
Water, water, water …
A huge lip-fish swallowed me.
But I continue to see her black stomach,
And feel the nasty smell from the mouth.
I hear the noise of the working organs of this whale.
Despite the fish in my ears,
Oh God, there is no death!
Why do I observe the processes of decomposition of
My drowned body?
Fu, I blew it, I stopped being beautiful.
This is suicide torture, tell me?
This is the right to life
You are forbidden,
Convincing that we owe
Existence in any case to drag,
This obligation strangles me.
Immaterial thin consistency of gray matter
Does not diffuse with the chemical formula
Only at the time and after the occurrence
I met a girl,
She looks like me.
When I was 25.
She runs around the ball, trampling his legs.
She still lives with other mirrors.
And the spirit is not yet broken.
What she did not want.
She’s so wonderful. Fresh
Like a bunch of tulips
With pink stems poured in pink
She, my other,
No, not a friend
I just sometimes watered her
From the crystal watering can of my memories.
Masha, grow big!
I caught a glimpse of
Someone’s contour in a copper dish,
Decorating the interior of some tasteless room.
I did not specifically look around.
But closely studied this reflection.
In the matte brilliance of copper, I have unraveled the gold.
This reflection belonged to another king.
His life is in full
I took a wonderful object from the wall,
And sketched apples on it.
One red, the other white.
And the energy of the night and day
Fruits in the movement turned.
They spun furiously, Revealing
Lightning speed changed day and night.
In a fascinating session, seven days passed unnoticed.
I woke up, looked around –
in an empty room …
whose fate had just stood before me,
On his hand sparkled
But the spell did not work.
Silver was not platinum, and
— I did not run after it.