Idi i Smotri


This is my family.
toothpaste, shoe-polish, soap,
a grenade, an automatic rifle.
A couple of rounds in the air
Our sacred war of faith.
Very cryptically drawn.

To love… to have children…
I got no time to waste talking
As for crying, there’s already enough
Let it soak through.
The devil is not so black

Hold still, my dear.
You’re deaf and blind.
Your doors squeak.
Soft like a baby’s hair.
We had one like you who got drowned.

You don’t hear birds singing.
I exist…
I burned…
I want to love.
I’ve got only one sheet of film.

At least rip out his tongue.
Like a big and surging wave.
It must be the beavers howling.
Only it makes him cry in his sleep.
And at funerals.

Have you no heart?
A shrapnel, as big as a fist!
Everybody’s howling today.
what a siege means.
He’s the one who said: “Leave

The one who was half deaf.
Poured gasoline over me…
Nurse, water…



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