Pseudolife
Crashed over bitchy dust,
You fly, you die; the black light sways,
Сompassion lives in us.
It comes, it goes, it starts, it wins
And everywhere dissolves
The amber yellow serpent's skin
In cardboard glowing coils.
Morphine with ash: rest calm and blow,
And never twit at night
Like gloomy Daphnis near Chloe
Before it holds you tight.
The speedless wind will call your name
Beside the formic shelter
And you will see ironic flame
Of brave siege-breaking Hector.
Immaculate like stormy gull
Concentric pseudolife
That blows pathetic trireme hull
As flesh is cut with knife.
Свидетельство о публикации №113111504322
Александр Лашманов 18.02.2014 18:08 Заявить о нарушении