Translated by Max Nemtsov

: :

i believed a song from the dark like a fish believing a spoonbait you’re the song there that sparks the deaf hear it as they sleep late as it’s murmured by cats in a park

in it, broken loose from fluorocarbon bitter chain the spoonbait stays in the water

and fish hugging it discreetly sings along with the cats so sweetly

: :

but no shame, no wasted labor nor that i’m no fairy neighbor and it’s all old as the war and the funereal chore

but your beautiful face which needs ten stops by broom to reach on the red line going vroom

makes me such an awful wretch and the saddest baba-yogi in the room

: :

before i invent a word for whatisnot

the ruble exchangerate will drop like a shell like a shell the highspeed nowarnet will be shot as well as much other stuff

and only a shell will drop like a shell

like something inventing a word for isn’t enough

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all world is black now not a stripe but a steppe it just gave me a breather for a couple of steps

it means i can make them somehow in the wide yet i can’t look inside me i can see no stripes white

there are only white words there written over the drive that a man may be leaving the love’s always alive

i could live with this wisdom yet again the steppe won:

after all the man stays and the love has gone

: :

a cat of smiles at the skies will wake a rainbow up

all agleam from handcuffs in a sunny sup

i wish i could still be asleep it thinks, dreaming a dream that i woke up as before

not the other way

when cats were better kept from skies further and more

: :

i was going to work some words but some words told me

we can’t be worked anymore we’re other now

something doesn’t word in us more no

re’we herot drows onw in other words