Once, I was sitting and painting rain –
Straight lines on white paper
Straight as pine coffin boards
Flat and straight, like soldiers in the ranks,
who stand and wait for order
fall down on the asphalt –
That straight and smooth
like a white wall pierced by the bullets, that get stuck in it,
like words gets stuck in the heart –
sharp, precise, cold words
like skewers with pieces of meat on them
like water washes away the lines of rain
flowing down on white paper.

An unceasing banal chatter
lips are piercing thick air
I want to go out, downstairs to the yard
and warm a midday cold with a cigarette.

To stand on the steps like a sparrow, –
swaggering in the frosty wind
and calmly observe the walking people,
that never slow down.

And when you’ll to get tired of freezing in smoke,
and be a letter in the streets isometrics
You’ll take the elevator to the heaven above
where the world’s being born, forming from letters.

and they all went out
awkward, lowering their gaze,
out one by one
once upon a time

the door was turning against
the clock –
sang-drank-loved each other

and we were standing on Bowery street
looking to the East
and punk rock had fade away
and CBGB was locked

… and then, everything will decay
into elementary particles
and even those nuggets that have left
will return to nothing
forget-do-not-forget.

A pug

I am standing on the porch
Smoking my pipe
There is a pug, standing on the street
and looking at me
“Hello pug” – I am waiving him, – “how do you do?”
But he is standing and staring at me
With his sad round eyes
I am releasing a few swirls of smoke from my mouth
They quickly dissolve in the clear brisk air
He looks like shrunk space caterpillar
on thin legs
“Why are you so sad, pug? I can’t be your Valentine, or your fiance”
But he’s looking at me, without moving
I don’t know what is he thinking, or how does he see me through his sad round eyes
He’s owner gently pulls his leash
He follows him, on his thin legs
I stay, with swirling smoke around me.