Suzie Washington 2

 

The orphan smiles to herself,

thankful for her situation

(much as it often hurts).

She remembers life in a family:

dictates, demands, compromises,

pain, lies, perfidy.

Now,

she is relatively free.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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I shut my eyes

(people, place, confusion, mess)

and find I see

with much

greater

clarity.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Fetal Position 1

 

They call it a breakdown.

I disagree.

To me, it’s an awakening,

a step into enlightenment,

a realization of what is

and isn’t

important.

Yes, to an extent, I’ve shutdown,

compelled to resist the futile,

and, for them, that’s the rub,

I’m no longer playing by their rules.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Душа

 

Wearily,

I haul my ass to bed,

content, at least,

I am another step closer

to enlightenment.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

SPb TV Tower

 

I know it’s true, interesting and free.

I saw it on Leningrad TV!

(Such is my memory,

suction cap…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

The government taxes you,

to provide

and to protect you…

With and from what? (I ask)

… Sinkholes, potholes,

a trail of breadcrumbs through the forest …

Indeed, the system taxes

and exploits you for itself!

*They* create and perpetuate

shit and spectres,

fear and loathing

the lubricant of their machine.

The authorities are parasitic,

the populace delusional

and busy exploiting their

friends, neighbours

and own subjects.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

O’ the unrecorded disappointments of history!

The hidden resentments,

frustrations,

treasons,

personal tragedies.

Big, small, in between.

… O’ what could have been,

wondrous and mighty,

had things gone our way!

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

From my kvartira

I see a neighbor,

princess suka.

She has a new outfit

she’s trying on,

for show and partying.

It’s my Birthday,

I have a new pair of socks.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Nothing new under the Sun,

scorched Earth, desolate.

Constant glare,

my eyes tear

reflected misery.

Tormented.

I seek shade,

refuge,

escape,

rest,

a dark corner.

Inside.

Inside.

A spiral staircase, downward.

Dusty and stale cellar.

It suits my soul.

Inside,

everything old and cold

in my heart, broken.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

It’s the inconsistencies which make you feel crazy.

People, time, objects and place,

they all conspire,

shifting and distorting,

to blow your wires.

Constant lies,

untruths,

misinformation

understood.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat