Cycle of analogy

The pipes are wrapped in a tarpaulin \ the color is changed to black and white \ the smell is gone I don't remember \ the broken rhythm of iron with iron \ flooded air \ invisible zones drafts \ the movement seems to be detached from \ the tarpaulin I don't remember to the touch \ the desert landscape \ the hair that fell by chance \ the days that fell by chance \ it wasn't like that, it wasn't like that \ then you won't remember the shades \ concrete and straw \ here is the post-industry of nature \ vacation in the fifth season \ quote as reflection \ casually caught looking at nowhere \ wander choking \ then \ post-trauma of love \ post-practice of life

These bridges do not lead anywhere\ these are not bridges at all \ structures created to sleep in the grass \ marshy smell of people \ who are not here \ invisible fish murky death \ bars on the windows of boredom \ reflection in it reflection in it reflection \ absence \ you will not drown here \ you can forget yourself \ the place where they appear to drink or \ the place where they appear to look at the bottom \ the rest of the soul \ the smell of urine \ the smell of concrete moss \ squares of water \ which has been rotting here for years \ a frame of concrete poetry \ a truncated monument of the city of the body \ on the edge of a ravine in nowhere \ a fucking bottomless swamp \ you can find a place in it \ the end

This railway's broken fingers \ the rings of the bridges of the descending tubes \ the wires that break the horizon \ the sky of the dark bowels of boredom \ the detached houses of the calendar \ the triangles and squares of rust \ the abstract painting of engineers long dead \ the calligraphy of the city beyond the city border \ the territory of the life of iron concrete and graffiti \ the border for those who seek pain \ the sounds of the train that cuts June \ the place of death of hopes \ bridges on which no one walks \ the color of the passing summer \ gray spots of distant houses \ industrial sunset

Lines shifted not along the horizon \ parallel to themselves \ disappearing architecture of unfinished buildings \ copy of structures \ pit of dead souls \ pigment spots of materials \ fading eye-colored sky \ frozen lines moving away \ no one lived here \ but so much will die \ dead work \ dead light \ dead color of concrete blocks \ lines, unstable beams that are tired \ pure pain ugly architecture \ you save it by moving it \ creating an unstable drunken state \ a look that loses balance \ as if something has fallen \ and stroking from below \ still trying to adjust \ no

Contours of shadows \ contours of days \ light spots \ texture of walls \ boredom of darkness that consumes \ fatigue of hands \ cut projections of reflections \ attention to the thickness of hair \ elusive pain \ waiting \ none of this \ just broken angles \ optics like a film frame \ nothing will happen \ white nausea \ familiar image \ form that requires sleep disturbance \ someone is watching from inside \ this is not something else \ this not something \ it is not \ and further recursive tenderness \ of broken hands

It remains only in the memory to restore \ why exactly the hands \ attention to pain \ attention to fear \ parts that do not fit into the whole \ the horizon is pushed beyond the frame \ the content of discreet dying \ despair as a form of life \ survival on asymmetric breathing \ suffocation \ imprint through the body \ missing objects \ missing subjects \ disproportion of meaning \ nausea of being \ nothing unusual \ just remember how to die mark \ zero mark on black \ everything is free unnecessary inaudible \ for the art of anhedonia hugs \ here the mute syllable is not mine and the mute rhythm \ depressed sensitivity \ deprivation of light and shadow \ apparently forever lost imprints of me \ nobody needs anything \ full throat of boredom \ turning nowhere

Reminder of Moscow / drops of water on the glass of the bus / going home and then home again / people who never entered anywhere / hopeless memories that never came out / drops on dirty glass / an image repeated many times / like a refraction in your optics / declassified sadness / loneliness as a principle of movement to work / flowerless youth painted not unpainted / millions of people in every window / and everyone has their own loneliness / the simple chatter of wheels outside the window / the warmth of nausea / and vice versa / observing the observer / inability to read / attraction to gray / burdened with oneself / fatigue / tiredness / the same music is possible without it / in the end just the texture of asphalt / tingling in the throat / a sip of cola

Unestablished structures of power lines / beams that cut the sky / the practice of knowing understanding as an art / the ability to see beyond the horizon / the intuition of working with space / here is the sky, we need to do something with it / the assembly organization of biorobots in rubber products / here is the sky, we need to do something with it / continue through the forests, rivers, fields and road lines / tons of work tons of aluminum tons of glass / structures of the past directed to the future / this leg of the electric body was standing in the garden / let's touch study glide over it with our eyes then stick it into binary logic / this construction is so light look how it cut the sky / what the hell is the garden it is lying here like a part of a mechanical dinosaur / this sky is too bare let's sew it reinforced concrete clothes / poems that have passed through time and here we recall Kamensky / triangular body triangular window triangles everywhere / uncomfortable wonderful / so far unlived dynamics are not concerned with anxiety and potential tension / but here is already visible utilitarianism that moves your gaze and emotion / run to the garden to the trees where the CHP pipes are visible in the distance / nowhere to hide / smoke on an empty stomach / listen to the arrhythmia / the sky will sweat / will smell / but it is impossible to breathe / fall asleep in darkness