I was nimble Maltsev Fish out coins from depths Are you in their frank blindness Obaschala attention on my platsmassovye toys. And when the cops closed down shop, I shaved my baby hair, Spur map with marked page of And called Teb everywhere.
I found you? My flightless bird, crying with jealousy, Or lost you? American-mouth Great strange beak.
And now I'm a fat house cat, Cursing his vile language I look like rats have eaten poison Their way through the wide cracks in the fence Kissing on the photo in the magazine Pecking at the bait thrown in the cold and clean Like a mountain stream of the blood of Christ.
I found you? My flightless bird, with bleeding brown feathers Or lost you? American-mouth Big beak, silently leaning downwards.