Anshe
“Don't forget, my dad's a General!”-
she had a temper of a Panther,
one SIP at the bottom of her wine glass,
and fled the officer's manners.
Glass crashed and a handkerchief fell
with beautiful shoulders, honey Palace,
opening her scapula and posture,
and the balance was inside-out...
Then the soldier was in a hurry early in the morning
sullenly, sadly on the ground...
“You don't forget my father the General.”
Whispered venomously under the veil:
“You can't be just any other,
you knew his shaved head
where your soldiers ' boots trod...”
Changed the stars outside his window,
changed the stars on his uniform,
and girls flashing in cars
on the background of bright rainbows, summer slopes
haven't thought about it.
“Don't forget, my father the General,”-
shawl barely concealed her stoop.
Suddenly he did something horrible
strangers became lips, eyelids, cheekbones,
like in life was not kissing them.
And swept, under the pain of the eyelids,
dominated by colors of life gray,
not pleased with the career ladder,
travel, money, adultery,
and wasn't even in the joy of the first snow.
“You don't forget my father the General, — and adds,- were... “-not bold.
And no Pope, and the body aged,
and life written on the pavement with chalk,
and the rain these inscriptions have been washed away
no prose, the author alone
I remember good usually...
Other people's garrisons and guises,
orders, change of sprockets and lucek,
but about love so and began the slog...