Tuesday, December 14, 2010

New Year Fragment

Just you wait
until you aren't 35
or 39
or 44
just wait!

I laugh when I tell you that
but
where does laughter come from
friend?
Did you really every consider
it?

Oh dry up ~
what kind of a scarf?
Puce?

You make me want to vomit
Puce:
an hommage .

Alone
on cold wrought iron
brown paper for protection
you read me
and spit me out.

Red hawks know
where media graze
in this large empty city
surrounded by water.

Can you hear
it? No?
Of course not dear.
Smile and defer
your dinner comes from a frontier

long gone
unjustly obscene
lingering on the tongue
like your scent
on my sheets
dark
pungent
illogical

trnaslating Russian to English.

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