the faucet is clogged as if after the verse of death
like the winged word of a wingless crane
like the erection phase of an automatic gun

faucet is clogged but leaking
such a strange dream had a dungeon dispatcher 
while the subway cars crashed 
into each other at an inexplicable speed

what can god know about the dungeon 
if even his only son did not descend to us below 
the earth's surface

***
silent weapons shoot louder
a blind butterfly shines brighter
the wingless man flies further
the sky falls on everyone's head the same way

the birds of hell have come to gouge out the eyes with their claws
and I look at them without eyes without a mouth without wings
living corpse along the river flowing into the pipes of war

my late grandfather always told me about the importance of wings in childhood

my grandfather didn't tell me anything about guns and sky bridle in prayer in prayer

hello grandpa 
give me paradise apples 
in this hell of a grave
in this hell of a live

***
the cash register of the store is the door to narnia
near the rack with comics the cashier sleeps
behind the back of the cashier there is a cupboard from which kafka comes out leading to the path
the path leads to the forest with butterflies in the belly of nature
seminal lobes rush with atoms molecules fight in love
the chocolate hare jumps to the cotton candy stream
the stream by which we will die of thirst with sugar on our lips

***
body in a sheet of cold snow
dead man in sky-colored robe
newborn in naked silence
child in the name as if in religion
teen with dildo like god
adult with childhood in the auricles
old man with body reaching for the sky

***
heart torture chamber
dwarfs of minutes scatter
birds fly like jet planes
wait those are not birds they are jet planes

the fish plays suicide on the dream shore

the bird on the back of the survival stub screams:
hangman here hangman

***
niche industry of porn magazine
a lump with a deity inside the stomach
indigestion of sadness flowing through the veins
myopia of approaching my love
every time i try to touch you
every time i try
every time you leave
soulless beer can niche industry
niche industry of disappointment in people
used can of beer and emptiness on the pages of a porn magazine

***
neural network is called intelligence
I call myself a neural network
I'm just an ant, fill my chest with reflexes
I'm not human anymore I'm artificial intelligence
I'm artificial
i'm not smart
i am a walking reflex
I am a walking disappointment -

and then I woke up and went to clean up the shit after the cat

***
manna from heaven falls
from the sky directly into the mouth
another day of eating wealth
from which nothing will be born

(Reprint by BarBar)

***
cotton candy smothers us with sugar
a stream of blood and tears of the dead flows near the house

we have nothing to eat and drink

(Reprint by BarBar)


***
fire does not give rise to perspective
the birds don't sing
autumn does not come
autumn from now on without legs without god without man

(Reprint by BarBar)