The Big Prose

And don't go for a walk in this swamp.
This field is too strong for you.
And from this perspective, if you look at your life
Hyper realistic there is not that kind of surreal yet.

This literature is too strong for you
Don't take someone else's.
But also among young men
There were many imitators of the style.
There are still many of them
I simply did not have a link to the original.
What did you say, old grandma's grandson? Is it still worth it?
Perhaps you are a Hollywood producer,
Why treat women like this?
Go work as a shift worker at a shipyard, you sucker.
and lick your fat-withered saggy wife
from head to toe
In gratitude,
that I connected my life with such a goat.

Miner, don’t touch this layer for God’s sake.
There is an accumulation of methane in it.
Resign yourself there is no gold mine here -
This literature is beyond your strength,
She's too masculine.
Better go out in the sun
wash sand in the stream.

I don’t understand, I have to persuade.
Don't just read everything.
Maybe you imagined that you were a writer?
Why suddenly?
Already now, admit it,
you don't know how to get back
along the path that came here.
And only three days have passed.

Should the thread match the bolt?
And only nails are hammered in just like that?
Bravo, there's nothing to say.
They were all handsome, it’s some kind of curse.
And holding a bud in your hands, not a flower,
everyone, as one, was dreaming about something else.
This is apparently a curse too.
He slept with me but dreamed about the old whore
whose children were the same age as him.
He was never quite happy.
She gave him boots
and told me affectionately into the telephone receiver
that she is not my competition.
This injury occurred when I was 16 years old. This lasted five years.
Then I got tired of it
and I put on men's clothes and went to university.
Then he died.
This aunt at the funeral said all this Lena.
She said it so that I could hear.
It was she who, when we were fucking, climbed up to us, screaming and knocking on the window.
What did you want there?
Oh, the car is stuck in a puddle, I need help. Well, of course.

Yes very convenient
a young fool with no obligations,
Yes, let him live, well, the pussy figure is nothing,
it could be better of course
Yes, stupid and fat, 50 kilos.
Well, maybe she’ll at least give birth and let her go.
Was everything wrong?
Really?
And then why did you die?

The others weren't much better.
All handsome men with a crack.
Never found any quality ones.
Why are they creeping on me? I’m beautiful as hell.
Well, damn, you can say so.
They didn't think, they were just happy.
that there is somewhere to shove and just relax on occasion.
And dream about your future
and sometimes even about your own past.
friendly sex what could be serious here.
And on the other side of the scale
a respectable Jewish woman with children in apartments
and an ex-husband with a large bank account.
And what do you think I think about men now?
Actually, they are all worthless women.

Wasn't it like that again?
But this is all a literary device
Real women's literature.
Aren't you crying?
And you should cry.

Furthermore
I've been followed all my life by a bunch of envious women
oh they couldn't believe it
what choice did these flawed handsome men make?
not in favor of their moronic stupidity, but in mine.
It just didn't fit into their minds.
They gnashed their teeth in anger and walked around.
Imagine how I feel about women in general now.

Don't even imagine.
And of course, after such institutions of life,
Push the falling one is my motto,
Regardless of gender.

How?
an embittered creature that no one has ever loved?
The fool hasn't even learned to hold men by the balls,
So that he doesn't run away.
What do you know about love, toad?
Oh, such various toad attacks,
in person and behind the scenes, I have heard a lot in my life.

But now I'm older and wiser and the mouths are so filthy
I cut right from ear to ear -
To well-wishers who did not wish anything bad,
From the category of reptiles,
It's appropriate to smile wider.
Are you a snake catcher?
No, I don't catch them.
There is no need to offend toads and snakes with comparisons, by the way.

So I said, don’t get into this swamp.
This style of literature is not for you.
There is no need to touch such layers of memory at all.
And what do you suggest,
Should I take this with me?
And wear it? I didn't even know
that I have a backpack full of such toxic memories.
I thought I had music tracks there
so heavy.

I've reviewed my whole life more than once,
How could something like this go unnoticed in the corners?
But one milligram of such achievements
capable of poisoning the earth, water and air
within a radius of a million kilometers around.
Let's throw it out here.
It’s clear how you treat people.

And here in the next thread
the girl writes about her sublime love and passion.
Yes?
Is it true?
Perhaps she was so lucky that she got not a handsome man, but a freak.
But even so we argue,
I bet a gold bar
Which is 99 and 9 percent described to us
idealized lyrical hero.
and the poetess had never even been on a date.
She was, I beg your pardon, she had headphones in her ears the whole way.
Don't be distracted from your own
romantic mood.

But there is hope to continue to lie in writing.
There are a lot of fools - there will always be someone to read this.
As proof of past love
Children must always be presented.
That the grandson killed his beloved grandmother later
Of course we won't talk.

Yes, this poisonous literary style
doesn't let you go, really.
Come on,
I’m not writing about her old lady lips pumped with paraffin
and about the sagging of her breasts
and a photo retouched in a positive color.

Please throw away these books and never open them again.
I'll read them all.
They are already outdated.
Those for whom they are obsolete have already died.
Troy was dug up and buried ten times.
There was no such thing.
Really.

And then you can’t say such things,
it's almost intimate and confidential.
And people don’t consider it art at all.
Cave people,
Here's the news, a hundred years ago already:
A stone fell on the head of the famous actor's cousin.
(how did this stone end up in the air in the first place)
I didn't say anything.
And your sad fuck is confidential,
Cover it with a rose petal
from a poem about tender feelings.

This poetry that will kill the poet
You can't handle this weight.
Burn these books and never open them
they are written for hippos.
Thank you, Mr. Rimbaud.
Go wash the sand in the stream and don’t go into the mine.

A mine in a swamp is interesting.
The mediocrity of the poetic word.
A stone fell on the head of the famous actor's cousin.
When on the descent
you want to find out what day it is today
This news is waiting for you
on the front page of the newspaper.
He didn't find anything like it in the library.
I didn't search well.
Describe life as a medical history.
Now it's full
but the sick are all malingerers.

It was Friday.
I don't know, it's Sunday for me
started six times yesterday
From the same place.
I understand what we're talking about.
Do not understand.

Burn these books, you can keep the stone.
So did he kill this cousin with this stone or not?
He fell and that's news.
It's a spider's web to talk about everything at once,
When everything is connected to everything.
This field is too strong, don’t even come close.

Innocent literature? This world consists of words.
Yes, there was danger all around from nowhere.
Put on a bow and then sit in a dark corner.
Thomas Wolfe, they are not gentlemen.
Well, of course, go to daddy.

This realism is not realism
it looks similar but isn't.
How?
So! There is only arbitrariness, but realism does not.
And if he is not yours, then someone else’s - there are no options.
Well, of course, why do we need a Colt then?

Go, I beg you, wash the sand in the sun,
fill the bag
buy yourself a glass for it.
I will show you the signs of a gold mine, how to find it in the forest
Just don’t get into someone else’s mess.

First of all, this is only for stupid men,
And there is methane, it’s dark and except for limestone
They didn't even find anything.
And why did you end up here in the first place?
I don’t know, I seemed to be walking along the yellow brick road and suddenly.
Hit your heel, he's a liar too.

I don't know how to do anything
Cousin of a famous actor
A stone fell on my head
Lou was wiser than most.
This koan has simultaneous symmetry in five planes at once.
Humans don't have enough computing power
Working with this is a job for machines.

You have excess capacity.
You might think I have nowhere to put them.
Look, someone is already sitting by my stream
What a cheek
Yes, aim better
maybe he's already washed up something.

Do you think they were engaged in literature?
Poetry? Naive.
The wizard of a fairyland is always a deceiver.
But this doesn’t magically change things.
Shoot! if they ask, we'll say
that they thought it was a deer.

Villagers, are you shocked by this?
It can't be, these magazines
They are sold in any sex shop.
It's just a tiny glimmer in the darkness.
Well, did he catch up with Selina or not?
The chase continues in circles
The hounds forgot about the mechanical hare of prey.
And ahead - the stragglers first,
those who have already run this circle are catching up with them.
Rimbaud, write about what you know better,

But shoot that scoundrel first
Its section upstream,
Yes, there is a waterfall there, but what do I have to do with it?
he's on my property.
Let's say that a deer appeared
don't worry about anything.
What's the name to ask?
Crazy! Why, he’s armed.

Men. Driving ideas into your heads like piles!?
Well, I'll show you now.
Where crayfish spend the winter, and not what you imagined.

And intimacy is not intimate and revelations are all lies
And realism is not realism. There is not a single word of truth here.
Literature is magic.
(black witchcraft for some.
Well, this is what abilities someone has)

Oh, the rat's face came out:
Yes, she's drunk as a sailor.
I’ll disappoint you, you rat, I’m absolutely sober now.
Didn't take a single sip.
crystal sober person
this text was written.

And I took it all out to throw it away -
I'm doing some general cleaning.
That's why
hide your rat's face better
back to the hole.
After all, Literature is a rough texture
very thin substance.

-she's just a graphomaniac! Typical drug addict!
Oh,
I'm sorry dears, I killed a mouse.
Rat yes, she squeaked
and I just mechanically.

Yes, you haven’t even finished reading a single book
Tried to steal the style.
Masculine, which even men cannot do.
Yes.
I may have kleptomania.
And if I like something,
I just can not
This is not something you can take home.
This is a serious disease!
Well, yes.
And I won't go with you to the museum.
And why?

(Sorry, I’m not a writer at all.
Nice walk through the swamp
This fake novel is a by-product
from recalling false memories.
No, only false ones I have, no others
Because nothing has ever happened to me in my life.
Home. There's no place like home.)

What was Rambaud doing here? Yes, he wanted to ask for courage here
But to no avail.
Yes, there were many others here.
But you won't see what is not named
such is the magic of words.
Did they notice some guy in a robe?
This was probably a famous writer.
And no one else? there were a lot of them here - quote on quote.
That prospector? I don't know.
You took a bite that you couldn't swallow.
Spit it out.
Never.

All hallelujah the work has begun,
or maybe from extra leisure
I almost wrote some kind of novel in verse.
Oh, writers and poets,
Yes, I don’t need your bread, eat it yourself.
You are outraged by the profane
sneaked into the literary workshop
and in your garden?
This is in vain, we just pressed buttons
at the writers' presses,
We didn’t eat your lettuce and cabbage and strawberries.
(Arthur, wipe your mouth, they'll think it's their strawberry!
Yes, we have plenty of our own)
It was at the same time that neuro-worms attacked your garden.
They will definitely eat you up, believe me.
Well, their brains are simply many times smarter than human brains.

Yes, it seems to me that literary bread is overrated,
and these are not machines, but wax dummies.
Don't pay these writers anything at all.
Everyone can do the same.
It's simple.

What could you possibly hope to please them?
At all.
I hoped that they would understand and forgive.
But they won’t understand and won’t forgive.
And you know it very well.
And they will also call you a whore,
Just to get taller
in their virtues completely false.

Ah, that’s exactly what it’s counting on.
This is the action
cuts his mouth from ear to ear.
At the energy level, there is no great loss
Madame was a rat and now she will be a joker.
Am I a magician or not?
Of course I can afford
such little things after all.
You continue to take revenge.
It's horrible.
I don't have time to talk about this later.

Get rid of this urgently!
Vengeful demon, they don't love you
and go your way
no need to catch up with them, leave them alone already.
Rambaud tell her.
Better call Baudelaire.

I don’t have time, I’m a very busy person.

Yes, friends, so is literature and a neural network
Will compile any meaning.
Did you like it? Still would.
There are many more variable forks here,
than in biological brains.
Why do you have a ring road and three turns?
And the translation is also machine translation.

Revision of events is a serious thing in general - the key to the entire universe.
Oh, well, I’m also just a poser in public.
I need applause.
Applause, I say, not a tomato.