Archive for February, 2019

Bethsabée, by Jean-Léon Gérôme

Friends, enemies,

I don’t care what they think of me,

so long as they’re wrong.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Tsar Bomba 2

Because you are you,

and I have no other true ally,

my nuclear lover,

any treachery is magnified infinitely,

to treason, to perfidy,

beyond reason,

and I react

exponentially.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Haunted by the feeling that something catastrophic,

bad,

is about to happen (like yesterday),

I seek stability,

the perpetually missing element,

security.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Transition

So, America, you “beat” us,

we, the people, USSR.

Wow, talk about pyrrhic victory!

(The scum you have enabled!)

Pray tell, do you enjoy your new enemies?

And does your 2019 beat your 2001,

beat your 1979?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

In the cold, hard light of this morning’s groggy exhaustion,

last night’s artistic endeavor seems

like shit,

expelled from body.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

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In a past life,

I was sent into space,

launched in a rocket,

I forget the time and place.

Traumatized, atomized,

blasted and dissected,

everything lost meaning,

form and being.

Nevertheless,

I have a feeling that I wasn’t dog or ape,

hopefully then, I was Félicette,

Parisienne Hero Cat,

not, alas, a nameless,

forgotten rat.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

sherlock-holmes-1899-mcrae-gillette (watson, the needle_)

Dear Person On the Street, San Francisco,

strung out, disenchanted,

enlightened and detached,

my question today:

In your eyes, who’s worse,

Lee Harvey Oswald from Minsk,

or some East Coast asshole who drives a monster truck?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

kot, tv, vvp

Hey, baby, it’s all right.

Whatever it takes

for you to get through the night.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

post-soviet_

Everything’s compromised,

body, soul, objects.

Imposed hopelessness

pervades my being

and doing.

Time, people, society:

I am stripped naked

and tortured,

gleefully

onlookers cheer.

Futility overtakes,

I give up the race.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

It breaks my heart,

the pain and frustration,

which people, place and circumstance

have forced us into.

Like Chinese water torture, drop by drop,

wearing us away,

lies and deceptions drain,

our blood,

our will,

systems and conspiracies destroy.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat