Archive for the ‘И… Люди…’ Category


it’s a dacha garden,

do I care about some weeds?

Yet, the neighbors demand a strange perfection,

I don’t understand,

it’s not like we’re feeding the collective!

(Just who are these people?)





Some people seem to like

the constant struggle

of life in this world.

The ceaseless battle

motivates and stimulates,

providing willpower

to get up each morning.

Other people

are repulsed

and sucked dry

by such futility.

They know they’ll never win

in this corrupt system.

For them,

deep thinkers

and bottom feeders,

life is a kind of death.




Good people you notice

and in their absence miss.

Assholes and shits,


you notice in their return,

curse their existence.




Man-child reflects,



All the prostitutes I know are actresses,


all the actresses I know are prostitutes.

He smiled to himself,

depth considered,


no offence intended.




Hoping for inspiration, you look out the window.

You try to focus on the sky

but you’re distracted by the courtyard below.

*Pissant neighbors!*

So close but so far!

Endless circle of misunderstandings,


and hate.

The unwritten contract of community

is underwritten by contempt.




Sometimes, overcome with the banality

and futility

of apparently everything,

you lose track of time

and slip from the tenuous grip of reality

(if lucky).


you fall into the sweet embrace of sleep

wherein anything is possible.


you dream negatively

and banally

about your neighbors.




In theory: yes.

In practice: It depends on others.

In reality: I don’t know.

… Ipso facto,

we will see …




Что за херня, господа?

Creeping, encompassing


Your hegemony cloaked in alleged legitimacy…

… seeks and seeps to destroy.

(And, we lament, so tired of being the eternal

misunderstood target)

(Lest you forget

the others

are philosophers)




Yes, the pictures you show are grotesque

and sobering…

Alas, though,

I was in Leningrad, Dresden and Tokyo

and I can’t say that Nagasaki and Hiroshima

suffered any more (or less).

War is war.

Death is death.

Misery is misery.

Burning, peeling, rotting human flesh is…

(you get the picture).

You can’t compare these things.

But you can oversimplify geopolitics

and complicated concepts.

And you can pretend that by banning “The Bomb”

human suffering will end.

Alas …

… Like landmines and schools,

you maim, destroy and breed,





Red Terror,

White Terror,

Day Terror,

Night Terror.

Every day terror,


every waking and sleeping moment,


when people are around.