Cheese eats
Window stares
Stars gaze
Women talk
Souls sings
Toilet is there
Heart beats
Blood breaks
**** vomits
Words fail
Flower flickers
In the wind
Women smiling
Drinking wine and beer
Stripped dress
Big ***
Beer bottles of the men

Ukrainian ******* has time
After work
to drink wine

Curly-haired girls
in white shirts
Glass touch glass

Nice nose profile
Ventilator whirling spirals

The owner smiling
Locked down and set free

Boys like from the French movies
Leo drinking a lot
The beer pouring on the knees

Bartenders in face masks
Naked back in the blue dress

Thundering far away
You want to go to play
The squeezebox
By the church
About breathing
While breathing

But there is the blond one
Close to you
Smoking icos
Writing something
In the phone

And the brewery is opening soon
You want to talk to her
But remain silent
It is better to keep
Your mouth shut
She wears the ring
You wear the ring

The rib pain
Over your heart
Makes you tired
Makes you sleep
In the late spring heat

The wind starts blowing
The storm is coming
The boys are jumping
Into the water

The girl is taking
Her bra down
With elegance
Putting a light shirt on
Smoking icos

She folds the towel
Put a helmet on
And slowly leaves
With orange tires
On the small bike

The storm is gone
The warm wind is breezing
Over the pond

I feel like a needle
In the groove of vinyl  
Running
Sounding
Vibrating
Singing
Her bitumen

The grooves are cut
Deep in the mud
For you to sound well
Designed
As you are

Just like three ice-cold snowballs
On the rusty plow wheel
Three piles of pressed flakes
In the morning appeal
You ask yourself
Whose brain
Whose hands
Whose tongues
That feel
Like this warm wet rag
Around your feet
Circling fingertips
On the line between
Your hair and skin
—

Love is like a dandelion
Little healing sun
Growing everywhere
On the outside

Just like ****
Overwhelming
Killing
Suffocating
Other flowering

Cruel, unstoppable,
Inevitable, forbidden
With bitter white juices
Beating death when given

Dandelove


—

The buzz of the computer gets me down
does?’t stimulate it at all
condemned to doing nothing
****** to worthlessness
a zero with nothing to lose and nothing to win
drowning itself in chaos of meanings
with no final meaning in sight
sure sure
death will be the final meaning of it
there is one more year left
maybe more maybe more
one more year is like one hundred of them
and it wants to sin
for that short feeling of freedom
flattening itself on the ground and twitching
flattening itself on the ground and twitching
saying anything that comes to its mind
making noise
with some ability to defend it against the rest of the world
provoking distress and detestation
always somehow trying to throw others into the arms of disillusion and pain
tchutchutchu
childishly trying to do what others don’t
with little success
destroyed by its inability to understand feelings
still the same *******
a zero asking for being erased
with nothing to say
with poor style
with no gentle moments anymore
repeating itself all the time
boring and lifeless
faceless
a desperate but sometimes convincing actor
hopeless writer
mean
ugly
weak
lazy and soft
not a man but it
a cry-baby
with undefinable ambitions
like doing something that would touch somebody
like make others trust it
by saying the ******* it usually says
like gaining unspeakable high virtue
by being something close to a *****
genius, indian, bohemian, child and pig
not knowing what it does or why
not knowing what it does or why
drinking too much
shaking legs under the table endlessly
eating too quickly
making everything around stained and *****
smoking too quickly
hating itself
adoring itself
stupid
animal
with a few natural instincts
making too much about itself
with no will
strength or (chances to stay)
not even strong enough to **** itself
with no peace
with no love
with no listeners
zero
with nothing to lose
and nothing to win
how can anybody trust it
how can anybody trust it
people beware
it ***** you up

with no peace
with no love
with no listeners
zero
with nothing to lose
and nothing to win
how can anybody trust it
how can anybody trust it
people beware
it ***** you up
——

It could be the cold outside
Empty chairs
TV crime stories
The buzz of ventilator
Mixed with silent humming of the characters

Silence and quietness
Among indecipherable voices
Meditation over a beer glass
Smoking ceremony

Cynicism unspoken
Listening to your breath
Second beer unfinished
Being restless from the absence of fear

Unable to catch one’s line of thoughts
Emotions uncertain
Not an easy day - troubled father

Only scattered images like
Frozen grass
Sticking out of
Icy snow
Who will ever paint it all
In one frame?