this sunwarmed apple is still pungent
but starting to rot.
it means the summer is almost over -
my birthday

I breath out a cry
and can not breath in
(heart was shocked by a signal
of exactly how far
all the loved ones are
so it broke into shards).
I see stars
It's the universe
compressing my chest
in a futile attempt to resuscitate
(it's too late)
I say
Come on
Come on
Come on
Come on

when the seventh veil is rent,
i will crack the carapase of my skin.
the flakes will dance in the air and settle,
just to be blown by a gust of roaring fury,
revealing the
infinitely cold and silent
dizzying void underneath it all.
with one, light years away, pulsing star
of pain.
shma.

he cursed me
in clumsy cursive
on a note left for me to find
"you are a child in this world
where we always have to part
with the ones we love.
be happy."
he was 27, tall and dazzling,
a full chinese calendar between us.
we went down on each other that night.
an interc(o)urse of sorts.

parting
is splitting your life
(i'm a child on this earth)
like an earthworm.
both of us wriggling away.

parting
is breaking
(with the ones we love)
a bone.
no telling if we heal.

parting
is going to pieces.

(be pieceful)

when i get older
i will have a small flat
on Rashi pinat Chernichovsky,
with a ******* dog
in a red bandanna,
named Sabaka.
on hot August nights
we will walk to the beach,
i will watch the waves
and Sabaka will watch me,
smiling.

Or may be
I will buy a house in Ein Hod
With a stone fence
And a forged gate
And neglected garden.
I will feed four cats
Three mine and one
That always refuses to come in.
I will water my two roses
One red one white of course.
And take aimless walks
Every morning.

in October and January
i will scavenge through the little shops
for peculiar things
that i will bring
to faraway countries
where i'm needed.

and in March and September
i will take a taxi to the airport
to hug that special person
i will be listening to
and talking to
over a cup of coffee
that will last a week.

but the rest of the year
is silence.

my desolation is so real
you don't even dream about me

i did so much weird ****
in my lifetime
that i don't even have a bucket list

i saw pyramids
and eiffel tower
and empire states building
flew a plane
rode a buggy car in a desert
flew on a trapeze
spent a night in prison
hosted a booth at a **** convention in vegas
was on tv
dj'ed on a radio
waited tables
acted on stage
moved to another country
donated blood
saved a life
pushed two humans out of my body
had ice cream in rome
and goulash in budapest
and surströmming in stockholm
drank guinness in dublin
and ***** in siberia

...rode a rollercoaster
danced on a street
swam in an ocean
floated in the dead sea...

but sometimes it feels like
i'm in a bathtube of that hotel
in hurgada
and all my life was just my brain hallucinating
on the final cocktail of noradrenalin and serotonin
i'm now waiting for the dopamin
to kick in

Hi  (i miss you)
How are you? (please talk to me)
I'm good (every waking moment of my day i'm dying a little thinking of you)
What's new? (just stay with me a little longer)
LOL (i love you)
Cool! (i love you)
Sure (i love you)
Byeeeee (i wish i was able to touch your lips with my lips and send words from tongue to tongue)
❤
Sorry, wrong chat

it threads from end to end
of me
coming through my eyes
(god, it's easier for a camel!)
sewing
my torn clothing
and my howling mouth
shut

silent fragrant friday night
in my stuffy suburbia
as i walk
bourbon street via dolorosa,
dolores on a dotted line.
warm-lit windows -
amber eyes of empty houses
dreaming of prize family.
might as well be staring from space,
floating in the airless vastness,
my whole life in the palm of my hand.
4 months of nominal flight
with my brain in a lockup
going
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAA

i wish i were twenty
minus years
minus kilos
minus politics wars breakups betrayals
plus illusions
minus deaths

but the main reason
i wish i were twenty
if i were twenty
i would say i love you

the feelings are obcsene.
a disease slithering through intestines,
perpetual motion of ouroboros.
a pet curling up in the creases,
nuzzling furry ***.
a baby craving in the big unknown,
a parting extention of intimacy.
the feelings are entangled
like a warm belly button lint
noone wants to see
don't share
don't care

you know you wanted to have children
because there's nothing else like having children

and you have resolved to try anything once
drugs, countries, racing, dancing all night, threesomes,

kids

the thing is, once you have kids, you can't have nothing else

having kids is like having this repetitive job where your mates are slightly dumb
(but they're growing on you)
and there's no time off ever
and the pay is scarce
but you were promised that one day you will get a miraculous reward
may be in ten years, may be later
so you can't complain
or your reward will be smaller or nothing at all

it's not as simple as lack of autonomy
you are an extention of their anatomy

having kids is like having a second heart outside of your body
and it constantly hurts

but they do give you answers to life's hardest questions
because they keep asking you life's hardest questions
at 7am and you have to go searching
for carton of milk, clean clothes
and a meaning of life

they teach you to say i love you

they teach you that your strength is finite

they teach you that your strength is actually infinite

they teach you to be santa and tooth fairy and mother of dragons
and everything there is to know about robots and vampires

they teach you that you are the most beautiful, wise and love-deserving human on earth

but your life worth nothing

mom, what day is today?
and what happens to us when we die?

ave
velo
oval
ovo
I owe

i can't say the word

when i type Major in google
it offers major tom or
major depressive disorder as hints
and they really are the same answer
if the question is space oddity

my father used to tell me the problem
are we alone in the universe
is solved by dialectic materialism
if mind is a matter
there's really can be only one mind
it does explain my brain
that's the size of a planet
but still leaves me at odds
with the feeling
of cosmic loneliness

There was a Young Lady of Russia
who thought everything's up for discussion
but then Life told her Halt
you can't say what you want
else there will be some grave repercussions

i am but a skinned bag of thoughts
wincing
from their glances brushing over me
flinching
from their feelings rushing towards me
getting blisters
from every direct question
i need an air cushion
a pillow
ow! a pill
to rest me in peace

sometimes
one of your little smiles
makes me so full with desire
i feel like i'm about to puke
my guts out
spilling hot blood
and butterflies

abandoned car
howls mournfully to the moon
alarmed by wind

I need you to help me
I need you to show me
I need you to feed me
I need you to play me
I need you to love me
I need you to save me
so here you are dearly
unwanted

mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mm

in a swirl of

cards, spoons, cereals,
books, brooms, thermometers,
laundry, photos, flipflops,
knives, gifts, rollerblades,
dishes, yogurts, candy,
catfood, homework, pajamas,
cartons of milk, tickets,
money, toys, sweaters,
hats, bags, sandwiches,
phones, pants, messages,
icecreams, umbrellas, lunches,
handcrafts, letters, bottles,
breakfasts, shampoos, succus
and tattarrattat

this
little bitty pretty one
is lost

3806 steps
not farther
from the teenage mermaid
in ripped jeans
they used to tell me girl
these are growing pains
all tears will dry and heal after childbirth
30 years passed
like laughing gas
it seems the streets i wander
have changed
but i'm telling you
making me responsible
doesn't close denim wounds on my knees