rock painting

in the morning
 Lead in the clouds
 Shaded roofs,
 
 Window with wet shoulders
 Pressed against the walls,
 They looked back at the distant glow,
 The rain was brushed from his face.
 
 World of fright
 Replaced by a world of wonder,
 instead of solid ground under your feet
 The good news is knee-deep.
 
 Where we hung the harps,
 With wire strings
 Balalaika game
 drops fall.
 
 If I forget you, and then
 Erased words leave unreadable prints.
 
 Everything was gray here,
 As far as I remember this area.
 
 Where are the tears of the singing victims?
 Where are the executioners who approved
 Right on the Holy remains?
 
 Under the hill of the hood
 You'll dig a burial ground,
 Curse the day and the hour,
 When did you decide to commit sacrilege:
 
 In the red cave of the skull
 The prophetic language of touch
 Draws with a swollen brush
 The hunt for the man.
 
 Look,
 In the twists of metro pipes
 ring trains
 crawl
 Fatter than underground reptiles,
 
 Heed,
 Planes go crazy
 In the thicket of hungry birds,
 
 Pull your hand away,
 In a quarter
 Electric bellies
 Shopping center
 Crawling on the living.
 
 Run,
 In flats
 intellectual victory
 Peace of mind,
 
 And you will get into my eye sockets,
 You will see on the walls of the skull
 Rock art.
 
 I am your brother,
 
 When you run away,
 
 Turn around
 At the far light
 Torches Arini.