a small winter in black nimages

i wish my presence
here to
corrupt the crone.
moronic drones of petrified delusions.
perverted sky-clad nimages alone
you have to pray and kiss the vulture’s beak
to penetrate my winterblack decision.
so tolerant….

don’t shiver. i’m not gone
insomnic powder of never-used injection

revealing nothingness

of which i was a son
dilapidated grinning intersection.
preserve the nothingness!
it’s wohl a traitor – yet
a roaming thought, a princess of depression
has disentangled my sarcastic net
delirium tremens rules the winter passion.

it never snows. the water’s dried to dust.
the wind has died away – so cold it happened
to be. i’ve sealed my icy lust
with abdication, and its grave’s long blackened
with stony feathers of reversed and stagnant words.



confess and pray – it’s all the same to winter.    (to me)
my throat is tightly tied with autumn cords.
my empty heart waits for this icy splinter…

(25 сентября 2002, 1:08)