FALLS Bashny.Net

< Alezh Kato
Pennsylvania



"Here, in the morning, seeing the sour milk,
Milkman learns of your death. "

Brodsky.

My quiet town ...
Not flashy, do not front
Dust of the earth,
The maps do not find
Why and for whom
Zovёshsya "Waterfalls"?
There are no waterfalls ...
Hmm ... someone joked

Here all the "sixty".
And even many larger
Two thousand homes,
And next - a rare forest
And it seems, at times,
What a merciful God
I forgot about the town.
Broke GPS

Panels hang
Offended-weary
In the flags of the same color,
On the roof sat a raven.
It was only after reading,
That this House "FOR SALE"
Neighbors know that,
What you did not

There magistrate.
Cool leaven.
local
Ready day and night.
Consider the case
And we are inviting,
As before
Honor your
Although the honor of his long
Retirement left

There is a dance hall.
Solemnly-solid
Counterfeit, as always,
Orkestrik
citizens There's "a girl's dream»,
The wheelchairs
Ruddy grief,
You are invited to jive

Neighbors-old,
Ringing joints
Forgetfulness dashing
Chips na
Total momentarily forgetting,
That tomorrow they will not
Become shallow streams ...
Rattles "waterfall"!

And then, as always,
In shops "sharpen fritters»
The draw some glasses
Cheap wine
Peace and quiet ...

Ambulance Siren

No!
This is not me!
Today ... not for me.

Last dream ...
Alas, not blue
No pain to die,
Hearing the call of death

Heirs of my
Bashfully smiling
Famously «FOR SALE»
To put on the lawn