dedicated to marina tsvetaeva and the rest of .....
when i was a child
my parents lifted me
on a kitchen stool
to read poetry
for sentimental
family friends
now
I climb the stool
myself
and write poetry
for sentimental passers by
who drop in
to sit out in the rain
in the pit or in the gallery
of my home
drama theater
someday I will
kick
the stool
from under my feet
and suffocate
in the loop
of blue lips
for the sake
of the sentimental God
since the blue lips
are as beautiful as
the creation
of the stars
on the other hand
since there is no
time
the loop hangs above
any stool
in any kitchen
theater
skies
of eternal childhood
this is something that
Mom and Dad did not know
19 Май 2010 г.