----------------
covers ground yellow carcass
themselves taking punches drops
oblique flows cut space, and
boring kitchen decor
captured in the crosshairs of the sight of threads ,
formed by the vertical rain
As if from himself leaving ,
through a thin film leaked to the skies ,
In the city of rain is much bolder, more brazen
lead poured into his forehead wrinkles ,
in it are born and die in anguish
and pain poems ,
smell of ink and decay can only kill spirits
smell like a thread without a needle -
Please Bang Bang , but no stitches left ,
waiting game , music, hands , steps
And now I stood before the window of a statue of sadness Crumpled lips in a bitter fold
Sticking look to the outgoing moisture darkness
flinching face clench the jaw , that creaked
For example : " I can not so much anymore , "or " no, I'm not happy ",
" for anybody , " " look, do not drop it "
" Do not forget , " " absolutely no one should be "
weak flow of words , before any other thread
more uniform , certainly , but more solid
The rain did not get rid of an amulet worn under clothing ,
His missing in my dismal story ,
Raskvashennyh mind wanders autumn slush
wants , not even , do not say - cry :
I'm all ... " And the water continues to drip
I remember a scattering of colored lights on the dashboard ,
someone was behind the wheel - a close look ahead -
port I remember , I remember - tube rolled under his feet ,
early night , the water on the glass , on the road
And you , my poor tired bird
enough for all of our time
is said , drank , done everything that relies
growing , dull despair - Stopped the car halfway
I left because I'm used to obey
law of the wolf and lynx : " Try to avoid fights ,
Bei first , take precedence in the attack . "
over his shot gun ,
And autumn was then , sported ryzhem ,
and the beauty of the migratory geese wedge over the stubble
And even the frequently
I curse the brain for the ability to store
and for failing to look blankly
rain fills the ear when the night is silent
when you smoke a cigarette after cigarette , without avail,
I made my way through the smell of wine and tobacco spirit
I in the fragmentation of drops sought to water
and ringing drippings permanently deprive you of hearing
broke from the eaves , roaring about anything , rushed Flight
short , and reveled in the endless ,
knee sleeping beloved , cool
long and painfully watch as the window
I once fell out with the door lock
but hurt long- cooled
And the world is not up to me - he took water continues to flow
pass me on the right and left, top, enclosing
my voice in a ring of wet , cold shoulders
Vigil will not help the bitter cup of tea
leisurely taste of words , the lone delirium
majesty of truth that I have ever tasted -
What all has been and will be - depression , anxiety The soul , like a hand on the voltage , trembling
Palm expanding , and now the circle
Only for some reason, Love or sky my guiding hand ,
make rubbings angel from heaven , I can only
copy carved by rain on a wet alley
silhouette sitting on the beach ,
incurable