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Rambler's Top100




The Shadow
(M. Scherbakov)

I've gotten used to a celibate shadow, observing no farther than a s-
Tep; the book is only a paper; a looking glass's but a glass.
In it a razing twin and submissive listener, full of pennance,
Fades, wouldn't be even blinking let alone drooling -- it was well as!

Yesterday, he did get tedious and attempted to please his appetite;
Didn't indulge or wasn't enticed by my elocutive tune --
Whereupon he shot out of the house to weigh, and compare, and happen,
All along with some new tunes what are they doing -- once in a moon!

Well it is not some show wagon for the new age, it's not always funny;
The hearing's waiting for a grandiloquent essence, a relic, tone --
You enjoy your rife walk, my sagacious echo, obsconding money,
Conquer the noise without laugh, if you don't find music -- just move along...

The brigant crowd has been dictating to ancient choirs some amiss-notes;
But the moment that something's athwart, speedy gracious, away and down,
With the choir, it's unbearable, while at the bottom, okay in distance --
Whether it's that or this way, akin and identically not fun.

I am dazzled and fading; my debut is lost and the benefit's needless,
Necessary now away from the stagings, to the dark silent prayer;
This way, that a way, broke some rules, barefoot bent some needles --
Time away from the searing acutest to dulling one, when it's bare...

With that abated ache, the care's art, but the maximum's two tablets --
Secong, and all the insane pain, and residual head-piece have flown away;
Hey you twin, when you do return from your intricate walking habits
Reinvent lackadaisically, how to thence occupy your day...

Rebel without Cause Overproduced
(M. Scherbakov)

Where are you now, the pedestrian barefish?
Barrels are void, tiderush is fair...
Fishtide geseungt it is oafish or lavish
You're in a den or in a lair.

As for me, having geared fair licences in aggression
I drag an empty driftnet up to the sultry shore.
However mine -- none's -- shore won't divvy away from me on,
So I can not pretend that I've much store!

Daintily countried-in, rooted, entrenched and resistant,
Local potato salt reached me by knees.
I know the local speech so indepth, in an instant
No aborigine will tell would you please!

But by the Mech embraced or bearskin, or deerskin deftly,
Sunny drifts duty shifts by, I go up to the board
Of insagacious ads or ludicrous dollyorders --
Can there be anything where I'm abhorred?

Electorate, fish's no longer in mention:
Wherever yes, there is no truce!
Anew now in my box, there's tomorrow's dictation
Not to oppress, but to produce...

Give him a hairy dose somnolences without treason;
Unmadagascar corner, furniture for the cane:
Let him impress himself as feeling here without reason
Is he a guest, can he remain?

Daily, nocturnally, gavel with sentence...
Sheets are amusing, cold is control.
Rustle inveigles me down nobody's commencements --
Local the salt, local console!

Never've I droned myself as either a guest or nephew --
All merely simply favors and curtinaceous gifts!
The News forget to change, but nails rattle in Nepenthe!
Local assortment by the gavel's thrift...

Whose Are Bigger Boogers, Bystrov?  (Monochrome)
(Mikhail Scherbakov)

Chase over wave, gallant
my sailing ship, salient.
Over the head bawdy, 
Mars holds its stead -- ruddy?
Left hand foray, Larson...  
Maybe, I'm a Mars' son?
Maybe, I'm an alien 
to the left fan aileron?

Maybe, I'm straight silky,
maybe my way's Milky
And this way ongoing
won't close or end, owning.
A cape, an isle offset,
another blood's swelter
or's it a shade of thought
about a dear shelter?

Or is it my off face, when I study philosophies,
Or is it in your office my favorite door orifice?
You don't hang me one slogan... you don't call me Ke-vorkean,
You just say to me, so long: here's your poem Key, door king?

Track links of Chrome Drive, breast-clamps, 
8-mile essay of goosebumps
Cobra with Anaconda, 
Santa Ana Los Angeles
Mixes and confuse ruptures, 
cherishes and invigors
Or is it to slay top spires, 
because you love some biggers?

Because you love some buggers, lying on a plate, eaten
Or because you track lugers lay aside to get beaten
Or because you write essays about Santa Monica and
Is it 23rd?  Faces more beleavened than high end

And the high end is mile high, 
like the SF golden gate bridge
I just have to take algae 
for my brunch and rest, average!

Political Confirmation From the Hip
(Mikhail Scherbakov, 1993)

It is me not some crazy onlooker, and not somebody up there beside...
It is me, not the tenth -- not a hooker, not a he, not a she -- having died.
It is me, donkey, weeble, a weezel monkey-Bonkey; surrendering type,
Exponential salt, a specimen, an exhibit debunking the hype...

Who has said that a trainer has volume, a display has both hands and the feet!
Having tergiversated asylum, I explain I ain't facing defeat.
Who am I without documents heavy, giving hundreds of concerts for free? (Semen Semenych)
There's no red; when I hear When the levee breaks I look at my face, it's to be!

It's me, heavenly size or a wisely chosen weight -- it's not him, it's not it
Even if it's not me -- still precisely disillusioned, illusioning spit
It is me, from the cuvettes and trenches climbing whole, climbing free, climbing pure -- but rife
And thereafter announcing as wenches, that the art does not beg a tenure -- never theft, never life!

Lithium of beaurocracy dumb-faced, sitting next to me on the back seat
Whereas usually in front -- am I homeless, do I need to be derelict beat?
I'm disparaging such a nuances' plate, lotto, detonation and bomb,
Ghotti family, Gambino trances, better just Don Fannuci, you're dumb.  Imbecil, horrid scum!

Unsagacious hammer and anvil -- neither one, I am reasoning Bush,
It is me loving booty and navel, rather than operation and kush!
It is mine various-metered endeavor was begreeted by Tutanhamen.  --beats me!
It is me, whose favorite was never Dzhigarhanyan, whose first name's Armen!  --for this country is free --

It is me shedding tears with no greater frequency, than fidelity kill,
It is me who can wait for the later -- not preserving a will, or a thrill;
It is me, fleeing talent, admiring innocuity's every caveat -- for tooth,
It is me, perspicating a tyrant not because he is keeping his seat -- but because he loves truth...

It is me, whose own face is a griddle of a Scherbakov -- call him that tar!
It is me, who likes face of a widow of a bard, and hangs her the guitar...
It is me when am drinking, am merry but not gay -- let the manuscripts burn in urn
Of mere being, when I still like Jim Carrey and I work out and when I my burn can't earn!

Hence come rats' colloquy in a subway, but of never the capital un-derground --
Abgemacht and I'm shooting a Sun Trail in some city down south, it's a sound.

City Truth Diagonal, Loving Diana
(M. Scherbakov)

About the fortune, don't believe me Madam others, blindly --
Not me, the dainty visionary, not profane in deals on sex
And on the sky piercing an eye can read each fate benignly --
Would you believe -- Roberto Benigni -- benignly
And never needlessly whatever's your reflex!

The vortix anticline, that's even daily filled, not empty
Was dragging by the centuries the Calculus of Lucifer;
There were a lot of them who wished, but I'm the one who went there -- 
It being the case, that I had never meant, but somehow went there --
All were just screwing eyes, but I have deciphered!

The flowers and prizes don't endow my hand, for being thought degrade,
And my inebriating world-view doesn't praise me at each turn
Because, I did not mold, for guys the great ethereal secret;
I did not give them wit' the great celestial secret --
They are rambunctuous -- but I don't love, I spurn.

To live is not to bed a rose and I won't tithe inducements;
Protruding ninsulas and nuns abut and boundaries to know.
Today I started to respect your betty-orbs and luce mints;
I'd even say, not disrespect your eyes and luce mints
But unto you the truth I won't likely bestow!

And even if I do bestow, why ass you need the tidings?
(Let's keep it private, for God's sake, and don't ask no one who the teach)
Non-Cousinard, you're in the coveralls, the dungarees and jump suit.
On a utility tesecher coveralls and jump suit;
You're playing Dungeons, but the dragons filed the suit (you've been pursued!)

But you have staminaed endurance, and you know to yoga
And you instil in me the nous even of the broccoli rabe age!
And on the combine car machine, dressed in a funnel, (sister) Polgar 
And I'm in flannel, and I no longer know Volga
But I'm phenomenal, so take me longer on an analogular,
Re-intersection of reester and foliage...

Naomi Watts Learned My Lesson Need 2?
(M. Scherbakov)

Actually, I'll be helping myself forto:
For the inclement weather -- I will store tobacco --
Black days will find consoling -- head will distract with goo:

Many there, will you wait, joyfulnesses if thief?
For the inclement weather, cognac is all I leaf!
There will be at the very least where to drown my grief...

Memory can rup short, in a flash be forsook,
But to collect extensive diary, I need nook;
Enough introes and infos for a hundred-first book!

Cognac will drizzle out, tobacco'll fall apart.
But diastolic pressure teeth will knock out of scars...
There should be, at the very least, means to fire a hearth!

You'll have your lesson learned, my unknown friend I've found --
Outline all you have seen, and add it to the caisson; d-
Raw the recalcitration of all that's by and round.

Thought from the Capitol falls the last Apostol
Write down all you remember, including rigmarole
Or were you vainly learning grammar and epistle?

(M. Scherbakov)

A citied tears, bedlam, bedlam --
An autumn-instigating pass...
Hue it in black, hue it in lamb...
For ever it will be blind as

Justin Bieber's imbilical
For favors biblical as death
And it's too bad that bells with mendicant
Smoke meth!

Hence, teeth for teeth; hence ant for ant;
Hence, nobody is welcome by
The patient's bedside -- and cant
From New York Times besettles dry

Replentitude of Max Grove fruit
Not welcome on the devil's grave...
All people institute Lancombely
The gavil's crave...

O cities tears...  tranquilite,
Jean Jacker, Nadya Suleman...
The psyche-ward lets one out today,
Tomorrow the whole Taliban

And exit off the high way ramp
Imbilicals back up the prop --
Don't tell me, if I need a harem,
To ever "stop!"

I am the one -- the only one --
Send off the naked Michael Phelps!
Who said, that I've by Gary Oldman
Committed clept?


Fillip, Ulyss, I flip the bliss,
Avenger comes to the newthink.
They need corroborate in Spanglish --
I.e., drink.

Volga Report (A friend giving money by membrane) Mama Despot
(M. Scherbakov)

To live this way -- why do you need old drudgery?  It's all slogans and a dictation;
Shakespeare is deaf; Pushkin's black!
Back from the crib, mama's tempted me -- not straight to target, but missing...
Mama, train a child to stop harrassing -- crying -- embarrassing cowards and then certainly, do buy him a good bike
For forty years and urge onward to "take a hike".

In sleep all night I saw money,
Ripped flat my eyes -- walking drowsily.
Where is the money?  The music sucked I slept to warmly, but wetly...
Mama, teach the child to swim on wake up, there increasing his awakening caution, not to breathe when dead or underwater -- then your bag
And buy a vessel, what the hack!

Bing cherries in yard -- in kinship, kin; cosmos if you add metric from the hedges takes straight a that-a-way.
Is that what hankered you hunkering down?  you, incapacious children, nobody'll ask neither this nor that time.
Help not just anybody, they say, and if you don't love to move, don't!
No matter what I've comprised and hoodwinked to adventure on some money, nothing seems as is or come back not to strangle me on neck,
And whither money?  What the heck!

All bad's from music, and evil too -- educated it's venom, I'd long fell deaf with a restitution
On both ears, even if one is off -- listerine, if you sing along, will send cartelway with a cherry...
A sandbag-looking pursued by gun, that popped the heart out -- and filliped...
Mama, you can't teach a child to fly, void your account -- in a veracity to kill! it's all in vain,
But don't indulge in an airplane.

Oblong Stomach
(M. Scherbakov)

Odysseus is in bunker,
You wear a hot pullover.
My first album was a clunker --
But so was the Revolver...

D-Day was jocund protrusion,
And so was your first boyfriend.
'Twas Marshall Mathers' intrusion
Into the Genia's stipend...

Hyena Heine was reading,
Diana kept hygiene
But Stevens was born in Reading...
How well do wear I a jean?

My reputation in Germany
Rests on sagacious Cossacks,
But why, if you'ren't even horny,
Watch John Cusack, when he sucks?

Subpoena rent pays by spinal
Insuicidities, where
John Updike so anti-vynill
Sees Woody Allen each year!

And so the psychee delusion
Pays for the psyche hospital
But you don't ask how is Lutian
Good Mikhail husband Tal!

(At any rate, whence the phlegma?
Who'll blood transfusions forgive?
There's nothing haughty at Wegman's --
Panera Bread is a sieve...

For what terrain is that complex?
Just don't hit cones when you drive.
Chuck Norris Fenways the dark Bronx,
McGiver cannot mcgive!)

Don't tell them you've earned a revue --
You seem so marital, why?
Tell 'em that you are my nephew,
Though it's a verital lie.

As the sea czar at the tripod,
Grab straight the rifle, and that
I am a madman with ipod --
That's my affair, tit for tat!

REASON TO WATCH SCAT, Another Whore In Annapolis
(Mihail Scherbakov)

Not one of us has known, by way of Deborah Harry,
Hugh Hefner's feather quit and esplanada fan.
Faux Pas onset with horns, when we were gathering very
Pechorin-like in hut and shackly called him man.

Defective detective effectively prospective
Affected the fuite de point Allain Deloin --
Ben Affleck of J.Lo. and Damon Matt of rective
Exam -- the art is craft.  The xylophone is mine.

There Emily Dickinson infected Randall Jarrell,
And Raymond Chandler dwelled by Ernest Hemingway.
Touched hams, a needle took, Jill Kelley made a harem.
Concert at the GG, Sang Humbert It's My Way.

Let's shag, Nat Pinkerton, Tareytons smother Red Bull,
Beats mother at the bull, wins Israel to jail.
Slang myocardian with Sasha who's incredible...
Slim Shady in a bog, the younger one, I snail.

And everybody to each other crying Stella
Toliatti in, Murmansk, Isle Coney and Norilsk --
That's Al Capone's sin to send the Muse Goodfella --
Old Gale you can't reuse, A.Jain just like a frisk.

And manna in Maryan Mar by Bryn Mar and Mount Holyoke
Resorts to Bodaibo the theorem of Euclid.
Enclave of Bonnie Clyde, ingrate of cliches rolfing,
Extracurricular in sewers I include.

Intrigues, Scherbakov Made an Investment in Stingray Hitting Steve Irwin (to prove I'm sterile) Mea Culpa... Got Her by Wizard
(M. Scherbakov)

Except there may be a cup extra
From Richard Gere, the damning pester
Of an old girlfriend in reester?

You can't reenter the old waters,
You have to banter what is Godard's
Investment in the "srednij vozrast".

Incest!  Two roads, tobacco grinding --
A dandy making the obsconding
Steppaths on Path train to the one ding! 

He knew, that in the night obliquely
I'll be extracted like a meakly
Aggrieved fly, consoling weakly!

Thought I that hearts aren't had by oldsters
Severe and lying, with upholsters
But what are lobsters, if there're floorstars?

They're busy, as they catch the splinters
With falling under in the hinders;
They'll burn and blow away the cinders!

Of this I, percolating snidely,
Thought and preponderated widely
But what occurred was far beside me.

The old instructed me, be wary;
We see that you can't other marry
Or wise be, when you're looking scary!

Bat-mitzvahed, if you're feeling Yankee
Your stunts and antics, hanky-panky
Will rib with till, commanding lanky...

And if old said to get a tenure,
Forget the Soviet, change the venue
Never do such a thing again, you!

Tomorrow, carry elocution
Of feisty job to a fruition,
Melodious, you'll be on a mission...

We'll give you place, as you can bear it,
You'll make it look insane and married
Or Captain Cooke will have you buried.

While at all's whole in it, and wholesome
The service must be like a person
Observing it, that's not coercing.

But if the service doesn't watch it
It must be wretched and not turgid...
There'll be another one emergent.

Absalom Sasha -- Same at 13
(M. Scherbakov)

That is the whole of content, that the dark and grim shady quiet
Is not a stipulation on the speech, but it stimulation.
But hotter than imaginary words beneath boots and voices
Are Bishop, CA's beetles Sycorax and sick of the Rex dog!

Akinshina Tatiana elephant descants and besmirches,
The Mars is not to speak of as a ball, the sphere is terrestrial!
Unmeasured in Great Britain sycophant in truth loves all churches,
And birches to the urchins give loufah -- forgotten the candles...

Clint Eastwood two-lane blacktop unprefers by face of Berdyaev,
I am alone and cultivating all my roots here and now now;
A verst is but beef-strogannoff in hell, it's urgent to plan blog
On all the kneecaps, sinuous clavicles and traps worth encapping!

The springtide to the Georgia comes in rogues, and just try the driving
Exam on pallet elsewise on pallette, the pellet gun trying
Beset, whence all the archives and behests in Eurasia's thriving
Vicinity and modesty of goal to feed all and crime all!

The Lucobrazi never read Speak, Memory -- hence extinguished,
The unseen glass -- uma-to palata -- pay, thug, for the training.
Godfather 3 brought back the preternatural plan -- Extraterrestrial!
I'm not unfaithful -- only want to have one fuck with the pornstar!

(Mikhail Scherbakov)

All is so well; there's nothing better --
Fresh energy, the open air,
Fresh pattern on a cartridge holder --
The brave supports, where neck is bare...
The young Moon profile says, I hate you --
The world receives it with dark tides!
And all round buns of the potato
Are blooming thrivingly from sides.
Unanimously from reserve bra
Upfront, I made to infantry;
But beneath me -- a horse?  A zebra
Sashays, ignoring charter plea!
Apart from that -- I need embarrass --
I see Moon's Ass that won't relent.
Which'swhy 'ts to her, not Moskva-Paris
My gaze's subliminally sent...
Elm Rasmus stars Udo Erasmus,
Marcel is off, and so the snake
But passport punishes sarcasmus
And in Chicago there's a lake!
The zebra clavicle, don't beg me,
Dance Zumba, beating the wolfstress,
The Biatrice needs to keg me,
But I am not in such distress.
Where's empress?  Whom must I resemble?
The meaning's not in being a roast!
Once shuteye, twice I see preamble:
I am so lunar, but hoc-post;
I boast of reading Post ad-hocly,
I am not ugly as you say
But need miraculous recovery
Behind De Blaz -- Diana's gay!
Oh well, the Moon is beating brows now;
There is a difference between
The Marceliezze and Udo Erasmus --
Next year HD we bear a tween!

Gabriel Byrne remakes Marnie by Lemmings (not to confuse with Jack Lemmon); Gabbie?
(Michael Scherbakov)

Whether, captain oh my captain,
You own doggerel as hair cut
You can't castigate inept in
Choosing diamonds from body art,
Married, why not eat dogs Nathan?

Eel is more damaging than salmon;
Hecuba's waiting, anguished,
For lightening amid strikeling...
Top instruction on backgammon
Is prepared from early teen age --
Why it is that bike'll's cycling?

Drocadero, Conjugating
Line of metro lying crassly
Why am I, so good at waiting,
Toward year's end lose nerve ending
And embark incat yacht lastly?

Condemnational gallbladder
Nationally left untreated
Begs a murder from the ladder
Of career childsitter batter,
Cangaroo unkempt repeated...

Lemme drop the patients curing, they will do when it to hasty...
Cunning covers from a sex bomb, clinging carries from the pot:
Nigger wife impersonation puts a white guy feeling nasty
And he seems out-straight ejector of himself from curement plot!

When the least of motive women
Thereafter reenters faction,
Point of goin' to re-assembling
Is like repeating two classes
Both of affirmative action...

Thomas Paine puts cane on Trotsky,
The Westminster Entwhistles
And Thursday David Bowie --
Erik Everhard reads "v lodke",
Marseliezze forbids milk thistle,
King Beethoven calls Beethovie!

How to live in the Apple?  Who Tore the Skin?  Worried?
(Mikhail Scherbakov) Three weeks in, Scherbakov is liberated, from disquietude

No forcements became needed for the rooftops,
The whip isn't whistling with Aqualung --
Rock album from terrace.  The powers don't need your moribund stupors,
And gestures resolve in a signature one
Although, in reality, it too is done

For.  Liberated you are, and not dangerous parolee,
Early death isn't threatening, intermission
Qualifies useful to someone fashionable,
Voracious, but not impassionable
And if you just wink, you'll know Larisa Gershon.

Megan Fox provocates impassuity,
Private we are no longer, wherever we want!
Time and space is confused to each other Pogutin-like
Singing the Okudzhava... As if it is cunt;
Throw the map over border, pronounce Yves Montan-d.

Master Grisha resounds on one toe inconspicuously,
Novella Matveeva flex Sonic Youth!
You meet a ts chinese, blonde (great vacuity)...
You hand her two dollars and quarter, she enters you;
You leave unbegotten and think you've compute...

Computer that's bought you strains neck to vacuity,
Song written three weeks earlier mellows the way...
Triggering memories of Timur and ego komanda --
What are you gonna say about the Fish called Wanda?
Give away your systemic whore.  Timur Shaov, hey!

(M. Scherbakov)

Then and thereon whenon and where you schedule,
Oh heaven, to be living us again,
Will you instruct us sing but note the pendule
Between those stars we never can restrain?

Beginning from nil to the optic glasses,
The scan of heights as presently and thus
Not secret key, but the sword of Damocles
Will we find there again, for us?

Today -- tomorrow -- to be gaining speechly,
By borrowing, we have to no one's tune
Maybe, but with the taste and salt for beachthemes,
And few have left, not having paid the loon!

But when tomorrow, our tautologismi
You notice, heaven, meet us not with "seems"!
Let us not sink in dark rays of your gizmi --
Let's not burn up in shallow beams!

Oh star's Habsade -- tight gossamer's material,
When to the shadows flesh and blood will come
Teach us, from get-the-go, how to eat sereal
And not be serial as a hired gun...

Sacrilege us of heavenly protection,
Retain the hymns but forgo the relay.
Let it get sooner to us -- than infection
Of stately bread for daily day!

Natasha Surpassed Expectation, Showing a Leg, Finding a Suit, Breaking Nose
(M. Scherbakov)

Indigene, native bastard, you can't live as a man
Using progeny the word, smelling canny --
Unhabitually something is athwart, as it can
Tomorrow maneken and out of tan!

Let's say last morning

Both familial you bronze adhered to wrists with the snap,
And for entrance stashed a hundred (in rubles)
But in a trolleybus trammed and swung through stop with a nap
And Tred'yakubskaya obsconded trap!

It's not you, last night, up worthy two-half steps -- that is here
From profundities where wardrobe serves eat
Married easel afficionado Natali propped,
Excursioner, a prof esthete.

Just note the spelling, stupid.

Thank the golly egad Mormon, it's no Morton you rapped,
Unchiefdeputied and thence unKarasined;
Bloked fruit fellows, blogged the cosinus and nose broke entrapped,
Saw Katja Kassin and forgot you're taped.

Horrendous Fellow!

Toes on Lazarus prep concert indivvying Pepboy,
A detective has to be by Vysotsky
But as far as indignations, jealousies, Chips Ahoy,
You're merely nascent, heading for Bolshoy.

Atrophy is more by brains than muscular -- give and go --
Ain't forgiving it upon the last concert:
Did some Stairclimber, forgot Charlize Theron, showed a toe,
Set up the victuals, and bestowed lotto!

Yes you did, Master!

Well, Natasha didn't keep the old diurnal in Prague,
Studied Latin in the Greek of Hungary
And as far as the Vysotsky of the seventy-five,
There's Glengary Glenn Ross and that is prive-

at, as Woodman Pierre is private -- but forgetting the socks
For James Bond is an insane requisition,
There is Henry James correcting, William Butler... Reikstags
And Tiger Woods, that's merely guten tag!

Without turnstyles and the vodka, without virgins and rock,
Without using such a word as Dupree
You'll return from California a stolid prom sock,
But you say firm, when simply up for stalk...

Steaks that Natali is eating send Aurora to hill,
Ashley Blue wants Scherbakov on a table
And as far as Karen Lancombe, she is dead if you will
That makes you evil on my concert bill

Consider prizes

But when you are on a transport, don't knock windows straight in --
Bend it sideways and a little but thigh-ward
Otherwise my Natali, like a bird, will begin
The Beguine sizing and master routine --

Egomaniacs are drizzling, make a scene, show a toe
But a trainer only teaches Aikido
Otherwise, there will be too much envy in sportlotto,
Hammer and anvil will die long ago!

Can You Flash?
(M. Scherbakov)

The year 2013 drew by a close --
The Moscow subway took me from 3 railways --
During the holidays into Cheremushki;
Through the indifferent sphere, no longer mine --
Where the street-sweeper pummelled drive-ways, whom none knows --
But once was colorful and now's no comfort;
The work amounts were given strictly by the key
Constituent so sordid -- there's no line!

Night and day, the hairy ashes flitter, through the scope
Of rooves and fissures -- exits and apertures...
Beat to the pollen, to an honest resident
Instructing vitally: catch your percent.
Your bucket will bequeath no space for how I hope
And I won't stoop to relic of a verdure,
You, sweeper, could variagate your assignment
And in the depth write essays paying rent!

You could be, at the truly least, excising sheet
And clean up stuff assiduously combing --
You could even take a vacation and replete
Your old abode back home with what you've earned!
Your conspicuity entirely, makes me beat;
I see you driveling and not welcoming!
I was ensaddling an old line straight to her feet
Who made me sing and eve not to be scorned.

But -- not looking back, I must be singing of the sour
Who will get barely weekdays back to order,
Who has to hassle to a meet in outer space
Not being afraid to drown, in what will come;
But, from the metro, there's another half-an-hour
To pass a sale and slowly cross the border...
To where again my good old Moscow I can face
And then eschew the roughness of its throng.

But -- not bewildered -- or yet savage Moscovite
Puts the refuse for simple blokes, and tells them:
Here's my endowments, they are measured to my size,
My sizy salary and all the rest...
The year went forward and the petards burst the night --
The sweeper stood, not vanguishing his emblems,
Looking astonishingly suave upon my wise
And hairy features, spazzy as the best...

прочтений: 4
раздел: юмористическая поэзия
дата публикации: Jul 21, 2018

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