Sometimes I see myself as tiny kite.
It glides on Winds of Bliss and Fortune.
The thread will lead this always-prying sight
to hands of Truth, while Sun is scorching.
Occasionally, I feel – I am a can of coke
in made-in-China plastic holder.
The Trust is famous for its sips-then-poke.
Sip-after-sip – I’m getting older.
Sporadically my minds hit Universe.
It shrinks to size my brain could fit in.
A gentle squeeze extracts a new-born verse.
Sip-after-sip – still thirsty... spitting...
July 16, 2007
Iouri Lazirko
Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko