break out looking like angels they are the closest thing to heaven inhaling them through my nose, I sneeze like a kitten the smell of cold is one of my first memories Siberia is generous with smells cold (but I already talked about this) wet wool, gasoline fresh meat, burning forest and peat close your eyes and listen to her in about yu she's not fighting with you, she's fighting you conquers Siberia dear mother to us, her stupid stepsons I am the stepdaughter of this earth the most beautiful of

at night weasels braid the horses' hair they torture them they torture them they lick the salt from their bodies my horses are motley horses white horse with black head black with white my motley horses are motley weasels rearrange their heads they they play checkers with them lick salt on the wound their salt is a motley horse checkers horses came from the east from the west the seizure of Russian lands is hit or miss (the gentleman disappeared after all) they left, the wound remains, the salt

And \ The beginning 1 rays penetrate things, revealing their inner emptiness this is the interval in which breathing is revealed air fills the body and it sounds \ the flower shows itself to the sky and it caresses him with its gaze \ the wind flips the pages of the plants \ I am among them 2 the mountain stretches up \ the steppe dries up and becomes a desert \ the sea freezes and becomes dead 3 I saw how right angles gradually become sharp sharp - round and vice versa after visiting all the

*** And \ The beginning of the end 1 And all those who live near the sea will not be afraid of death where ports do not wait for grief where palm trees tickle the sky and the horses are buried in the ground I saw people straining all their strength they were lifting an empty load their bodies are bowstrings and arrows they would fly further and further I walked between them unnoticed like a drop running from the forehead like the wind caressing terracotta faces thin almost Roman profile this sun

there was nothing here there was nothing human was natural gas shale stone ore there was no salt here and there was no reason for it she's been in the ground for ten thousand years she is free and flows and burns they scoop her out of the womb and chained in pipes I'm smeared with her and she's my blood she is my mother and father and strength and rotted to the bones I will return to her and become her poems fold inside and tear and rush about with foam at the lips, and I'm silent I can't write

On July 28, 1914, a war began that would later be called the Great War, the First World War, or even the War to End All Wars. It lasted more than 4 years and ended on November 11, 1918. Its beginning marked the entry of humanity into a new era, in which combat operations became part of everyday life - they no longer took place “out there”; they were carried out in cities and towns, in villages and hamlets, on land and at sea, underground and in the air - in a word, everywhere.

O.P.V., M. and B.K., G.Yu.

this is my darkness Siberia, impossible dawn there is nothing here except snow Dinosaurs rot below turning into into oil I ran away from here as best I could but inside I have taiga soft growth of moss near the Yugan River and a bucket of cranberries

A Review of the Exhibition On New Thinking and Other Forgotten Dreams Secession, Vienna, 1 December 2023 — 25 February 2024 On the Flattening of the Earth and Other Realised Dreams “Is this why this country existed—to invent crazy ideas and try to embody them?” Anna Titova asks in an interview with Maria Lind, reflecting on the Soviet Union.

l. X. oh you baby watermelon rind I'm taking a long tram Moscow autumn like this good I see you around the corner behind that tree in Lefortovo park Yauza is calm and the leaves do not rustle dogs don't bark kids don't cry silence come to me and kiss me I know I'm more than you I won't see I won't sleep today