If you stand outside the door – muzzle guns,
If you dial out of the tap – soap bubbles,
If you look to the left – school offices,
If you go right – broken lights.

If you close the curtains – red cockroaches,
If on mezzanine – black spiders,
If an empty flask again to score from a tap,
If empty hands – complete backpacks.

In empty the eyes of not udivlenie,
Not cowardice, not vice,
Not to new feats aspiration
And not humility vow.

In the empty eyes of the living plasma,
That state of matter,
Where there is no irony, sarcasm,
But the words are jumbled.

In a separate heap the days of the week
Vibrate one tourniquet.
Behind them are book sections
And rhymes rolled into a coma.

Familiar street names,
Smacking names,
Go policy, slouch.
Behind them is a gray wall.

Of course, there are memories,
Such bright lights,
Where pleasures and sufferings
Go to the station these days.

The road turned to the side,
Then on the field three turns.
Go forward, throwing his head,
Go and blow on the clouds...

The barn is crooked, her knees shaking.
Why I climbed in such Tyumen?
Such untrodden wasteland,
Such far Anadyrs?

On Monday the devils sing,
I feel sick again.
Sleep and pray, eat or sleep,
But there will be no evil.

Hercules did not know any of the drawings,
And poorly studied under in school,
But it was a hopeless poet at heart,
I had lots of dreams about the will.

Only one thing he could not –
In the sky flying like a bird.
But a few feats to make managed
And he can be proud of himself.

Do not have a hundred rubles, and have a hundred friends.
Half a friendly hundred
Send me to Broadway as soon as possible,
Take half to the hood.

Correctly the poet said:
"Communication is a luxury."
About yourself live left a trail,
Said backhand.

It seems, the moment imagines –
People will wake.
And neuromental subscriber
Communicate will.

Oh, what funny fun!
There's no other fun left.
Tattoo on the right,
Or left under the sleeve.

There's nothing more to hide, is there?
I shouldn't be hiding either, right?
Come on, I can't breathe in here!
Let's go, the store will be closed!

Paper endures everything – it is not silk.
A piece of paper in an envelope with a poem on it.
Diligent, handwritten,
Keeping simple thoughts.

Fourteen lines about the city,
Fourteen points back and forth.
Fourteen lines about ships,
Dashes, commas, crosses, zeros.