Archive for the ‘Vignette’ Category

1934

Lilli’s mother,

who remains at heart a Nazi,

once told her:

it is good for children to play in dirt.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

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He’d drunk enough to be honest, open.

“You’re not like other women,” he said,

“You know, they go on and on and on, non-stop talking, idiotic things. I wanna scream SHUT THE FUCK UP. Women like that, hah, they’re the main reason men like blowjobs. You know, with a mouthful of cock, finally she’s quiet!”

He laughed at his joke and swallowed another drink.

I raised my eyebrows and remained silent, smiling condescendingly.

Men and women aren’t so different after all.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

I reflect, instantly,

subconsciously,

involuntarily,

and overwhelmingly aware,

all too aware,

I shake my throbbing head

(it doesn’t help):

such pressure,

over such a shitty banality,

minutes and hours of life

wasted,

repeatedly,

day after day,

out of control,

rabbit hole,

frog spawn,

maggot salad,

horse meat,

human flesh,

wasps’ nest,

crumbling mess…

the garbage may

or may not

be collected.

Triviality sucks.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Bus and Princess,

two words that surely do not belong in the same sentence,

yet, today the absurdity of my reality

coalesced,

hitting home again,

with those very words,

clearly heard,

leading me to despair,

and introspection.

… Am I beyond repair?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

“Merd-iterranean!” I repeated, fawning.

“Oh, Mozart, you’re so witty!”

I shivered as he slid his hand up my leg, indecently probing my nether regions, groping, squeezing.

I simpered, obsequious.

… How could I say no to the genius?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

The villagers were happy,

today was a respite

after last night’s storm.

A chance to repair

the damage and destruction

wrought by the howling winds.

What fortune (!),

today the Sun even shines,

indeed moods rise,

as they prepare to batten down the hatches

for, tomorrow or the next day,

another storm cometh.

Commendable, stupid people,

they are functional.

… I am but a philosopher,

a futility phobic,

screaming myself to sleep:

“Let me off this fucking boat!”

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Nadezhda, my lifeline,

my hope and dream,

if only,

I had a woman like you

to lie next to each night,

nothing else would matter.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

There you go,

like an annoying Black Bear,

perhaps without malice or care,

instinctively acting,

foraging,

reacting,

as I see it, for no good reason,

committing treason,

in the peaceful forest…

Digging up nuclear waste.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Lies slip from her lips

like water down a mountainside.

Slick rock face.

Summer thunder storm.

Slippery slope

to doom.

 

The glass shatters. Shards pierce my psyche (my soul) like shrapnel from an evilly conceived bomb. I bleed. I despair. Such a thing of beauty, gone wrong, become a thing of hurt and devastation. Such is life – a simple mistake multiplied and complicated.