On Seven train platform

On Seven train platform is quiet.
On Seven train platform everything remains without change.
On Seven train platform a homeless man in red jacket
is sleeping on a bench in twisted pose.

On Seven train platform is empty.
On Seven train platform time stopped.
On Seven train platform a robot woman is announcing weather.

On Seven train platform you don’t feel any pain.
On Seven train platform you can’t see the sky.
On Seven train platform is only allowed to wait,
but with your mouth shut.

To Seven train platform a train never comes.

a melancholy #5

An imbalance of adrenaline and melatonin.
Circling in pairs
In the North-West direction.
She wanted a crown of pearls,
but he gave her a pot of geraniums.

They lived, yet not long enough,
probably because they didn’t post enough cat pics.
They were drawing the air, but it turned into
a raging fire, and everything around was burning
while the trees were crying aloud.

It’s hot in the city during the second half
of this summer. An asphalt is melting in tired muscles,
And you can hear the mourning of the mute alarm.
While he was looking for Nirvana in the nerves of the subway,
She found her peace in the metaphor of Hexogen.

I took a train

After becoming ten, I started to travel by myself
to my grandparents; to a different town, by an afternoon train.

It was usually taking more than four hours to get there;
The train was moving slow, making a lot of stops.

I was eating sandwich with a few apples
while looking at the changing images behind the window.

Wheels were repeating their mantra again-and-again
“Thaa-dumm, thaa-dumm, thaa-dumm.”

an Old Car was squeaking, shrieking, whistling;
complaining about its monotonic lonely life.

“Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz”, “Wheeeeeeeeeeee”, “Psh-tss, Psh-tss.”
“Thaa-dumm, thaa-dumm, thaa-dumm.”

I was singing a song, and looking at sky.
It was changing its attire to an elegant Egyptian Blue.

“I am traveling to may grandma
to an ancient dusty town.

How do I know? How do I know?

She’ll put a kettle on a stove
to make some tea with a piece of lemon.

How do I know? How do I know?

She’ll open a jar with a white cherry marmalade
all for me, all for me!

I know, I know… ”

The conductor is announcing the last stop;
I’m already up, waiting by the door.

“Ding dong”

Stop!

The cannibalistic axolotl

I knew a girl,
she wanted to lick everything she liked,
everything she wanted to behold if
she couldn’t reach a full mental grasp of it
using other senses.

I knew a man,
he ate his dreams, while he was asleep.
Once, he became so hungry
so he ate his soul;
and at the dawn of next morning
he died.

The cannibalistic axolotl
is a king of the night.

He knows everything in the world,
because he remembers the taste.

He knows when you need his experience,
but comes only to destroy
your paragons of virtue.