«In the yard I washed up late at night — / Rough-hewn stars shone on the vault of heaven. / On the ax like salt the starlight's bright, / And the barrel cooled filled to the brim forsaken. All the gates are padlocked, and the Earth / Comes across as consciousness severe, — / One can...»
«I returned to my city familiar to tears, / To my vessels and tonsils of childhood years, You returned here again, then devour and cram / The fish oil from Leningrad’s hurricane lamps. Then at once recognize the December daytime / Where egg yolk is mixed in with road tar noxious slime. Pet...»
«Supper sky fell in love with a bulwark / All is slashed with pink scars of light threads — / Having fallen upon it was thrown back / And transformed into thirteen odd heads. / There you are, my nighty-night heaven, / Like a young boy I’m here to face you — / Chills run down my back...»
«At once I smeared the map of boredom / By spilling pigments from a tumbler; / I formed an oceans’ jagged cheekbones / Atop the crest of aspic platter. / I read the summons of fresh youth / on rusty glint of fish scale tin. / So could you / take / a drainpipe flute / and play a ...»