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Rambler's Top100



YOU

ПОЭТ ЭМО

'RE NOT TOO BEAUTIFUL "GOMOSEK"?  BERLINSKOJ STENE NAKAZAT'? (KUDA LAZILA V SABVEE) A ZA CHTO TEBE TELO DAYOTSYA?  ZA POHORONY?  KAK K PUPOVINE OTNOSIT'SYA, KURNYE TVOI MOZGI POD KURSKOM!

VRACHU, EGO SEKVENTSII MYSLI: XOROSHIJ RESTORAN UZHE KAZHETSYA NATEL'NYM CHEREZ DVA GODA, KAK ERIXONSKAYA TRUBA "KOPOV POZOVI"

POSLE GIBELI DEDA WACHTEL
I S TEM PARNEM, STIRAYUSCHIM VENIK
S EHLEVATOROM V DOME TEH TEL
VO NEVADE, GDE KAZHDYJ VARENNIK

TOJ SUYOTSYA PRIZAPAHOVINOJ
SUICIDE SOVERSHAY, DOVERNUVSHIS'
SKUNSOM, BURUNDUKOM... PUPOVINOJ
ALEKSANDROM I MENEM, KANUVSHIS'

V OBSCHEM, DALYA LITYM SLOVARYOM
KAK V KAFE NET I NET TEBE SKAZHUT
ZHIVO V ULITSU ILI GAVNOM
POSCHITAJ SEBYA I NE NAKAZHUT.

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!



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: 1
раздел: верлибр
дата публикации: Jul 23, 2018

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