morning ...

< Dana Lot



... Hey! .. Well, please! .. Anyone! .. Someone ... someone ...

I put on a smile, sunglasses, coats.
I leave my pajamas, advertising, home.
I go out of the house ... where a loose mouth,
moving his lips wet gray array,
The sky, pierced with spears that smoky pipes,
nervously trying to dazzle ... gurgle ... Contact ...

What you devonka? .. There is nothing to feel?
Besa what you mecheshsya and whine?

That is before you - naeshsya as bread -life:
! ringing kolokolnyy- and under the pig squeal,
The city, like a hammer, too hrustalnyh- three sheets!
priceless scene and drama for half-price,
vot ... limousines's last-pants,
Tragicomedy chic preyskurant-
Colonel thick and thin dead sergeant ...

and you

see and hear a no, what kind of talent,
paint, dumplings, knees, wives and Kant,
morning, work, salary, spring, war,
legs and arms ... What else pricks?

Th is missing in the landscape?! .. Well? .. you call!
louder ... again ... heard? .. What?

Love?

... And in the silence that comes as a lump in the throat,
Well it is necessary - to face the disheveled guy,
that alley izgazhennoyu breathing,
eagerly pants crushing and gutting

so brown-eyed vouchsafed hum

-I used poeb.t! ..