Poems:
***
I drink the blood of a fox who smiles at me as if
I could someday found the capital of a huge empire
I drink the death of a fox as if
I were grass in which the dead body will gradually drown
I drink death
I am an unborn fox child
*
the parrot repeats after me as if my phrases are smart and mean something
the human child also repeats after me –
what for?
*
the ant’s revenge
is a pleasant tickling
of my knee
*
no one died except the pig
people thank god for food
the farm is falling asleep
*
the bird outside the window
disappears along with the drops
of autumn rain
Reprint by Litbreak Magazine, 28.11.2023
***
I dream that mosquitoes get rid of their bloody religion and cry in pain
my red hands have become a mosquito graveyard
all night I dream of graves without flowers
Reprint by Pegasus
***
my mother counts the amount of lead and uranium in the earth’s soil
the earth is round like the earth
the sky is black like a mining night
my mom takes the button out of her stomach
father is eloquently silent
the father is not sure that he is the father
Mary is not sure about anything either
and only the baby puts his feet on the milky ground
the Magi bring gifts to the baby Jesus – gills and a gas mask
Reprint by Pegasus
***
for whom do we drink water if from heaven God brings down rain on the earth?
for whom do we live if the top angels press the wrong buttons?
it turns out that we all live on a cloud
it turns out that we are electronic rivers of rain from electronic clouds
Reprint by Ripple Lit
***
the lanterns are shining
people die
water flows
the sun is shining
flowers die
blood flows
people are still dying
Reprint by Rise Up
***
strong
hard
sturdy
solid
fast
robust
tough
firm
beefy
hale
soldiers play birds
Reprint by Rise Up
***
My cat knows nothing about blood
My cat kills a mouse no matter what breed it is
My cat can’t be Jewish
My cat can have any hair color
My cat can vomit after overeating
My cat can lie down and die quietly in silence
My cat can fuck as much as he wants and wherever he wants
My cat can do nothing
My cat can ask for food without earning it
My cat can pretend to be human
Living people go on living in a cycle of war
Dead people keep dying
***
Invent me
Turn me inside out
Kiss me with weightlessness
Touch me with humility
A little winter for a bird
A little bird for winter
The freckled mirror dissolves
Old men stare into the reflection of the ice
Military pilots waltzing like mosquitoes
The ears that have been blown off are contused
In the reflection of the eyes hides a childhood that no longer exists
***
Mother feeds pigeons by the dugout
Black pigeons in the white snow
Looking for crumbs of bread
***
What do they feed Jewish drowned men?
It would be strange if they fed them fish
It would be strange if they didn’t cry
It would be funny if birds flew in
It would be vague if the Germans did it
It would be funny if children did it
It would be creepy if no one stood on the shore
What the trees were thinking when the hole next to them was dug
What the sand was thinking when they put the corpses on it
What the ravine was thinking when they flooded it
The Jewish Sea which is not to be spoken of
***
I love you but you are
a withered flower and also
covered with frost
***
Pesach of a severed silent vein
Whose blood flowed through the ditch of world (hi)story?
Hі! – tree branches waving
Hee hee! – the roots of the legs laugh and we are not able to move
Meanwhile the bone of a severed branch crunches underfoot
It crunches somewhere in the chest so that I want to break the insides
Fragments of the pain of water and silent stones weave a wreath
Wreaths are usually put on the heads of Jesus brides ukrainian girls
Wreaths are often placed near the graves in the cemetery
And at night in a bed floating in black cast iron
I dream of flowers without graves
During the sand of time the grass underfoot dries out
Therefore instead of grass in wreaths we braid tears
Grass is our home grass is glass
After death I would like to become grass
After death I would like to become glass
After death I would like to be without legs
After all every new day is a small escape for refugees.
I know that my pupils will no longer see a children’s collage
I always knew that one day my college would be smashed
I knew that one day they would kill us all and prayed that I would die beautifully
Unfortunately I did not die although what are the reasons for living
I teach my (eyes?) pupils not to see
I teach my fictional acquaintances to forget
I teach my legs to sleep and dreams to crumble
However time devours all its bad students anyway
I can’t do anything
I can’t even write
After all what is silent poetry capable of talking
Аbout today other than war?
Reprint by Orbis
***
Love is religion
Every time I drown in you I forget that I can’t swim
Every time I forget that the shore does not exist
Every time I use the right to remember and try to forget
The heart is leather satisfaction
Teach me to steal money not only from talent but also from the body
Teach me how to kiss people I don’t like
Teach me the night because the day is long over
Insatiable bodies fuck in all cracks
I no longer have a body
The body no longer has me
Love is walls without a ceiling in a homeless house
Reprint by Orbis
***
My dog suddenly turned blue
My friend the groomer only sparingly said that he sympathized with my grief
No doctor or zoologist could help either
The psychological support service also did not help me
The dog looked at me sadly and pressed against my leg
It’s been a day since my dog died
Exactly a day has passed since I imagine that my dog did not die, but only turned blue
Exactly a day passed like a day, I throw out the dog food from the bowl and pour a new one
My dog suddenly turned blue
***
My green throat has turned into a garden
I have to be silent a lot
I have to drink a lot so that the trees grow
I have to breathe quietly so as not to frighten the birds
I don’t want to scare those who are happy
***
Nobody counts death until nobody dies
***
summer heat secrets
shells and bullets fly instead of birds and spaceships
***
mom said
when you grow up you will live
mom lied
Essay:
two clods
1.
people living in the grave want to live. every day they collect pennies (calling this process work), study at the university (to temporarily get an exemption from army duty?), go to the grocery store and cook (although automatic robots were invented for this purpose decades ago), build a career (although it would be better for neural networks), they pay taxes on income (so that later they can look for new income for themselves (so that the state can have its own income (to pay benefits to the poor is also income). and what am I doing at the same time? I am fighting the shadow from humanity by closing eyes and creating a cast-iron darkness of blindness. і succeed: my vision is already minus three. meanwhile, the refugees leave their chicken nests and go to Europe. іn Europe, refugees, like ant queens, seek shelter. human miserable life – and this life turned out to be an escape. from where? where? at what pace? why are people still working instead of machines in mcdonalds? why is mcdonalds paid? why is the nuclear winter of dictators so expensive for slaves? humanity living in the grave wants to live.
2.
in childhood, we all often got sick, but with age we have no time to get sick or laziness. in 2022, for the first time since coming of age, my heart ached and I vomited. what are the reasons for my indignation? It turned out that the Nazis are murderers, people who love war are ordinary people who love their children and go to the same store with you. it turned out that fascists always believe that they are fighting fascism (but more often they are just interested in money). it turned out that puke is even nice – and after that there is an opportunity to fall asleep and not see anything. but during global changes, eyes are always opened. in childhood, they lied in blockbusters: the military does not always have two arms and legs, the head is not always intact, the intestines are not always hidden inside the body, the body is not always present in principle. Is it only dust that exempts you from taxes? how many years did you work and pay taxes before you died? how much money did you pay for nuclear winter? as a child, winter was considered an adventure. maybe the tode mouse finds the mousetrap fun before dying. the cat treats the mouse as its prey. but I noticed that often cats do not eat mouse corpses, but simply play with them. nature is funny even if it is shit. funny: before the war, I had practically no money. now the money is there but it is meaningless. funny: I didn’t think killing was a good thing before. now I don’t think killing is a good thing either. but it’s me, not others. a couple of years ago I was sure that the illusion of love is nutritious. now I’m sure only that love is an illusion. humanity is an illusion. Noah’s ark as in a fairy tale myth. only not a single religious character actually exists. after all: no Jesus will die in my place during the war. in the end: instead of me during the war, no Jesus will die. and it would be better if no one died. but what will kids be taught about in fucking world history classes in the future if no one dies?