*

I once studied in ped

and lived in an ancient town.

everything was there: love to death,

kir 24 hours a day in the kiosk.

the neighbors didn't fucking piss them off,

at least as it is now.

my friend, how young we were,

oh how we believed in beer.

Now we don’t trust any drivers,

neither the Psalter nor the ribbon.

I want to write poetry in pairs,

those that I won’t say anything about.

There's not a soul here, it's all gadgets,

shawarma, chicken, baklava.

there I was in love with people,

maybe not all, maybe one, maybe two.

now I have salad and buckwheat

and mineral water without gas.

the river is like a noose around me,

by train if it’s a forest.

I'm lying sick, thirty years old -

I mix banana with cottage cheese.

not missing mass

will he be repaid in abundance later?

I'm watching ballet. doctors said:

“The beauty of skinny looks is healing.”

It would be better to register grandma -

little sister of rural aonides.

red rowan trees turn yellow

in my snowy window.

having wasted half my life,

I can completely fuck everything up.

If only a doctor would come and give me coal,

There would be a lot of mukaltin in a spoon.

and so that the day always wanes -

do not nail down the curtains.

so that the voice ends in the neighbor,

like grandpa Druzya’s mind...

I once studied in ped.

Now it’s probably not possible.