London
Роман Ярцев
The petals falling painfully demolish the seedy days on the dead tree, the head is demolished and the fir cones are eclipsed...
There's a torn rag on your sleeve and where are you my South Africa with mulattoes on stop...
I'll smash
piles with a smoked pipe of English tobacco on the cold streets of London, and for now I'll fuck the Thames brook with starch without the necessary ideas...
Russia Khovrino
Moscow
New York, don't sleep..
Siberia is coming...
We have blotters, missiles and aircraft for your sanctions
London
© Copyright: Роман Ярцев, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122060800600
Свидетельство о публикации №122060800600
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