Hello with you I feel like a poet. a careful doe, and you are a careful thief, you will come, you will come to me, and at the same time the hotel corridor will shake. and the pages will drown in poems dedicated to you, the youthful dream will fade away. trembling air on the eyelashes The coat style will dissolve. a large palm opened a smaller palm, hugging the starched light. you are my most long-awaited visitor. hi, hi. stranger my heart is on my chest, hold it tight.

evening without you on my wrist is part of your cuff, you leaned against the darkness without clothes, in noir I see your calm eyelids. your naked fingers are imperiously crucified, we keep our word of honor in a soft room, in red - your figure, as described by the ancient Greeks in our favorite poem. your hands in my photo bathe in your favorite grain, and I write poems about you after Vinho Verde.

Women's writing often emerged as a reaction to misogynistic interpretations of femininity in the androcentric tradition. This article examines the intertextual similarities between the works of Russian modernist poet Anna Akhmatova (1889 - 1966) and Ukrainian modernist poet Natalya Levitskaya-Kholodnaya (1902 - 2005) in the context of European negative symbolism of femininity - and as a manifestation of transnational modernist practices.

I really wanted to interview Sergei Chernyshev... More than 20 years ago I met him, his practice of conceptual analysis and design, and his vivid philosophical texts. Since then, I sincerely believe that Sergei Borisovich discovered the most understandable and heuristic approach to social design. In particular, unlike many experts, he accurately points out the subject, form and meaning of the current stage of the digital revolution.

I started preparing this material for my project Mamadets! on the anniversary of the tragedy at school number one in Beslan, but for the reason that I will state below, I left the text.

*** drunk on the hot April sun to the sound of wheels on rails, awakening of a meditating dog. and Kerauco freight cars came back to me. they called me, and here they are, in front of me. you are my darling with a hot deep kiss, dared return as a bright memory in the darkness. and all my rotten paddocks burned in the fire. I go from the coffee shop to the bookstore and run into the forest. This is the happiest spring in 5 years, when you said “I’m all yours.” *** dear, dear, dear, dear.

We are publishing a review by Ella Rossman of David Graeber’s latest book, “Bullshit,” published by Ad Marginem. Gustav Courbet. Stone crushers, 1849 On September 2, David Graeber, a famous anarchist and equally famous anthropologist, author of such books as Debt: The First 5000 Years of History, A Utopia of Rules, and Bullshit, passed away.

cat, my moon, my girl, shy doe, my shed tears, my wife. turn my screw your hand is right or left champagne colored palm. take off your outfit darling. tuck your tailbone, evil thunderstorm. they say on TV that there will be a hurricane, and you will be satisfied and pink. open your mouth beautiful, excellent, take out the tongue. don't be afraid, naive one, you'll be happy. poems poetry lines free verse

dream about you many sounds and many letters not connected together. your life is a sheet music of ringing sounds, mine is an unfinished painting. and terribly unfair There was melancholy frozen on my cheek, from the shame of grief. Today in my dream I saw something beautiful, it reminded me of you. *** stupid but incredibly lucky boy, this is dedicated to you. Now, I’ll knock back another glass... your ring in a chastely generous carving I'll remember.