By the entrance, On the left side of the supermarket A cop was butchered They knifed his chest And indifferently examined Red flowers just grown on his soul asylum Red flowers On his soul asylum The blood splashed on the children’s faces It’s no blood it must be freckles It is blood It’s no blood it must be freckles By the entrance, On the left side of the supermarket A sleepless cop was killed He had been reading Naked Lunch all night long And then they killed him And the kids Freckle-faced Each bought an ice-cream And threw the changes into the face of A beggar with a boyish haircut By the entrance, On the left side of the supermarket A proud cop was killed His eyelashes smashed the sun into pieces once and for all And once and for all his lips repeated: Kids Heroine Tangier By the entrance, On the left side of the supermarket A cop was butchered He knew nothing about the literary work of a poet Dmitry Alexandrovich Prigov He just remembered his name From a literary radio program In November or April On the left side of the supermarket From the darkness and the wall scripts of the entrance A cop appeared like a comics character With a cap on and a stiff collar, he had been cutting through the darkness and air And he somehow reminded a shark Huge and white By the entrance, On the left side of the supermarket A courageous cop was killed Then he got up and walked across The river, which does not divide a city into two parts He walked with pride He’d got the power To taste the sea Without getting wet.