Tooth-less smile of
the seller
in the around-the-clock

I was standing at the bus stop
Someone threw away the garlands
And then broke the urn as well
Turned it over, knocked it down
I did not know where to call

About this nobody
had warned me

Chafes tired land
Snow - falls, melts

Cover or leave
Do not abuse

Decembrist bloomed
On a dirty window
Under the drunken bawdry
In a damned country

I warmed you
I sang to you
Blossom about me

Past the forest flies an suburb train
At the pillar, in the long-awaited first snow,
Unfinished brandy "Pyaterochka"

I would gift you this day:

first snow,
wet heavy branches
in the street lamp light wreaths

how fatigue is swept in the eyes ...
and sticks together
in neon molasses
of signposts the eyelashes

These sounds: the screams of trains
a whisper of tender cars
creeping past sighs
in the crowns of poor trees
drunk winds at the threshold of snow.

I would gift you all

Be at least something here of mine.

Sleepy, opens his eyes
The taxi driver
In the windshield
Lights

What is it -
Santa Claus!

Or Them

Bread in the birdhouse
Smoke over the stove
Something flickered between the trees
Or it seemed

Half of the evening i spoke with you
Parted ways
The other half of the evening
I remained silent

with you

O mullah, kiss my eyes:
I had a frightening dream -
As if your azan grew silent

Winter in the gray empty sky ...
And only a moan
Strolls in concrete yards

Tit colour
Like winter dawns
Yellow, blue and
White

The snow is falling

Large
Gently
Strokes the cheeks
One snowflake
As if caught in the eyes

And alas, did not melt

The sky is covered with a veil
Everything froze, silent are houses and trees
From the horizon - wagons

Like hands of a betrothed

Swims to the platform
A huge iron whale

Raises a fountain of snow

Beauty parlour "Eliza",
Supermarket "Magnit"
"City Pizza",
Yellow flashes the signal of a traffic light,
"Magnolia", Pharmacy 24
Snow
On the Earth

I wake up on the train
In my mother's arms -
She has a red cotton dress
With patterns and birds ..
We are riding to a feast-day
As if in confirmation
I hear
"Holy holiday...!
spare some change»

Tit days -
Blue and white
Pine trees
Shadows
in the yards

Dogs play - rushing in the snow
one - in a bright green coat
So empty in my head

Suburb trains
started coming late
And it seemed like
we
could breathe
a bit more freely

In the pool, they turned the music on
Today - a special night?
Yes, said the guy through a dream
- today you reconciled
With father

Russian Islam - an unwanted child,
In the future - a difficult teenager,
And maybe a great poet.

How tragic? - as much as Russian.
How fair? -
So, there's fairer not.

Christmas Eve Friday -
From the cars, the music is reached,
louder than usual.
At the store, saleswomen are inspirited
In a dirty spit ashtray
At the suburban station
Reeks an under-smoked cigar

In broken days
Harassed and sad
Resound my verselets
– foolishness canvas
The author is offended
The audience embarrassed
Why are you reciting at the cashbox
We need to close
It's New Years soon!

Selma and Patty Bouvier
Rushing to Dorokhovo, to a girlfriend
They lament and groan -
Ninka doesn't respond

I found myself in the hallway
chewing a piece of pie.
Left the kitchen,
But to go inside the room -
No need.

Snow comes and goes
From day-to-day
In the air the smell of rails
And of spring
Is that you,
January?

January spring
Smells of the sea everywhere
Let's make a fire
On the bare shore, the cops will seize us
but we'll forget Russian
Will melt in a warm cell
Like a joke, like snow

Feet in the cold
Head in fire
The sky in pink bliss

Pines and
Birches In pink

Red houses

Snow with a slanting rain
Tickles the cheek

The train flew by
Between the rotten sleepers
Fresh grass

Everything creaks - staggering
Leaf fence

Intermission of light
The chambermaids of construction trailers
Stand in the dark

Authorities warned
About the storm wind reinforced snowfall
They asked not to go out.

I went out - I guessed about the big poetic
plot
They want to see everything for themselves,
They want to hide everything from you.

In a huge, black forest - a blizzard

Treetops scratched the belly
of whitish sky

A nasty creak will hail you
aged voice of a girl
will call by name -

Do not stop,

your sick from chebureks stomach
more important than the damn tribe.

Do not envy with black envy
Do not wait for the truth
Assimilate like a cat tirelessly scrubbing a glass door
and believe in the better

I will go out to the ways at night
Trains that come from
Moscow - to see off

Quietly quietly they go - distant -
Dim light in the misted windows ..

...to Vorkuta
At one o'clock fifteen.
I try not to breathe
at all.

On ice skates,
Elderly men run
along the pond.

Midnight - quiet,
moonless.

"Chairs"

Precipitation fell
And settled
Absolute silence

Only you stand at full height
You have not been abandoned -

It's a kind of game

The sun is shining
The heart is warm
Under the snow.
Oak leaves

From the wide from the steppes
From the swamp forests
From under the high mountains
And white snows

Get together, Russians

Oh luli
Olenki and Vanechki
Oh luli
Masha's-Serezhenki's

With belongings and sons
With daughters
There is no place for us here

Abandoned, fierce,
Angry, envious
Honest, cowardly faces of mayonnaise
With sour cream souls

Come gather all
From incubated places

nests furnished

Let's fly
into the depths of cosmos

I came to the radio-market
Already sleek but still a
Bazaar
I knew

What I'm looking for they'll not sell in a digital mall

I approached the most dangerous and sketchy
and right into the face said:

Need a phone -
That there's a disabled

Volume limit

Last few days,
no wind,
From the sky nothing falls
in a city full of lights

Snow lumbers - very large flakes
Salt lies on the ground
I look into the neon fire of a car service center
Blinded

Smiling at you

"Passers-by"

Man in ridiculous pants and hat
haze in blue eyes
empty grey hair in moustache -
a Cossack

And not a mummer

A mummer - is you
sneakerhead in endless Russian
snows

"Passers-by"

In the courtyard two boys on the phone
Listen to trill
Chin-wag about the fate of hip hop
Smoke, squinting
it smells - not of tobacco

Near-by, mom screams
at the eldest son:
Are you an idiot
He almost fell over the back of his head

Snow covers the yards

In the heart of a winter night In the turbid clouds
Of irregular shape
In the wrong place -
Came out a hoarse crescent
Yellow

Having conquered own fear

On a slippery cornice of a tired
rude house
hung

But it'll hold him too
And everyone who warms up on the floors

Zero - eggy
Nestling - unit
There is a hole in my heart
Chicken for 99

Wake up in the middle of the night
Take a pill

Ah in the morning arrives granddaughter
Cook her chicken

When you die you will find yourself
in a summer night of Crimea

In a cafe by the waterfront
You will become disco lights

After a while for sure will ask:

"Lord, what is this?"
Or
"What the heck?"

In a January coma, the sky
The corners of the houses are sharp
Like chins Of Moscow

residents

Winter in the city
so few shadows

Just you and I
My friend

January blizzard
Above the city not asleep

In the blinding molasses of lights
Flashing transition signs

Thundering winter bourdon
You fly out from the

corner

On your snow-white
Skoda

And so we have met
Dear

You and I are the first flowers
of this spring

Cotton wool in my head
Is winter to blame

Closed is the door

I am not waiting
for anyone

Swimming in the park
Skiers on skis
On the pines, the snow lies lushly
Smeared by the sun
Purring, tractor clears the trails

sunset and
a butterfly

if you want to take it to your kin - to grab it - you'll cripple it, kill

if you bring them - won't be able to find anything

to confuse death - is the only way,
this is the reason and basis of the Path

Trees in sugar
Orange cars
Like bees
spin

Everything is waiting until you pay
(some fifty)

And then In the thick of winter,
the wand will descend

From the passage to the vestibule
the snow falls
Swinging on the waves
I look up

Where ice licks the iron

Electric train - electric train
Take me away

Where white over white
Sky and fields

Under the feet creaks the snow

It seems

As if besides this street in three lanterns
About seven signs -

There is nothing.

In winter, February
Frozen
Sky
Nighttime

April dawn

In the courtyard, there are trees in the glaze
And a drunk man
I look into the abyss of the heavens
And he is phoning Katyukha

Let's leave our hags, man

Cars are sleeping in a row
With foreheads buried in a snowdrift
Tomorrow is Monday

I'm falling
A breath scared, loud as a scream inside

And I believed you
Winter

Mouth arched a sickly arc
Moon-eyed
In your black eyes
Silver

Immerse yourself in timelessness
don't get ready for anything
When all the troubles of the world will come
Lie to them:

I was waiting for you

At nighttime to the house will arrive
a spirit

Will check
Is it clean in the house:
Greeze on the stove
Things on the chair
Hair in the drain hole

Right this instance, get up and check
Did you put the shoes in place?

In the font there's black water
Noise from the road
A day without a single bloodline

Withered grass in the snow
And ash
Silent in windlessness

Tearing a young twig
Felt -
Spring.

In the deaf bell Moan
In the gray quagmire
Of heaven
I hear

Only spring my love.

Glitter under the feet
In the pocket a smoked
chicken
Going home in a February night

At the entrance to the cinema "October"
Teens with a half-drunk two-litre
Fanta
Throat pertinently
an un-pertinent song

Bending over in the snow
Trees stand
Heavy, taciturn

there'll be spring

Under the overhand, I stand
Watching snow fall
In the awning light light
As if it's warmer

Beneath the semolina porridge of snow
Ice-crusted ground
Gliding, legs do not obey
Walked home
And treated into a dive bar

Space for Russian -
A second home
Familiar since childhood
By black cloudless
Night

Without a single sound

The condition of the room and apartment - average-satisfactory, the repair was done a long time ago, things are not in their places. In a separate room, there is a sleeping place (in the room there are 2 beds, nearby standing daughters and mothers), on the floor, there is a mattress, there is a study place, books and toys, food. At the time of the checkup

the sun flooded the whole room.

In a heated argument
Losing breath

But now you are standing
In the very centre of the pond
Under the feet - ice
Under the ice mute water

And above you a block of sapphire
And wherever you look - snow

Tell me
Who then
Was right?

On the stones falls the snow
thick sky torn by rays

What day is today?

two boys on the stairs to the basement
among bottles and syringes
hiding

only their cheeks burning
from the cold
and excitement

February yet stronger
Silent,
presses all living
to the ground

But the living does not bend
All they speak about is
of Spring

Here stand black houses
Sunday winter evening
Hides silhouettes
Not a sound
Only the transformer box
Wails

In the damned senile world
Youth only wants blood
And everyone else
Youth

I became a homeless trump
No one spares me some
Time

For the last winter day
No words found
Hello, Spring!

Spring came
But in the kitchen gas is burning in -
Of all four burners

Your love
It seems
One needs to earn

I heated the kitchen -
You can come out
my snowdroppy

Along the winter trails
Age-old girlfriends walk
Crackle
Waiting for both at home
Only death
and seedlings

White socket
Window lights
In the thin sky
Moon - the housewife

Towards nighttime, into the embrace
I threw myself:

"Hide me, Night!"

At the feet of the dawn woke up
Shattered arms whining

And yet again wet snow
March kisses our backs
Bent over

From the troubles and hopelessness
Will cover
Outlining smiles with
coal

On cheeks will strike
Wet snow
Light up the fire
In the eyes and melt

In the streets of Moscow
amber haze of shop windows
and lanterns

Death walking near-by
Side by side
Grandfather after grandma
Mom after dad
Sister after brother

My dear boy
sailing in a plastic boat
a needle is your Lord
a fork is your Mistress

Above the soulless city
Huge, sickly moon

And the sky is still the same
Sweetly-blue
And the window lights
affable

As always

Creeps the suburb train
The tambour is bathed in the sun
It drowns traces

Someone is laughing

Hail thee
Crematorial priest
And your snow maiden
Who speaks
With expression

I hope

You will buy the grandchildren
A plastic tractor
From the profits

Come home In high spirits

Good health!

And never think
About the bottomless night
In which we are forever drowning

After all,
if and you
take thought about it..

I'm chasing time
Like the wind after a bag
Will we fly higher than the third
Floor

The wife will cook a soup
Spicy, delicious soup
With river fish

So you'll pour it in
So you'll burn your trap
So it will choke in it
Your swan song

The snow melted and froze again
In the yellow lamp post light
Shimmers rime glittering

Like the face of a dead man

Rare snow
Lays down
On the black domes
On them stars
Golden shine
Into this sky bottomless gray
try not to fall into

In a cafe near the metro
In the lights of a gas station
Joy runners - green jackets
Bicycles in dirty snow

Souls in primaeval freshness
"Look how he is fucking him up "

In the cracks of a smartphone
Children's delight

Winter night
In the woods
Whoever you'll meet

Burning star in the black sky
One
Departed for her

Cried up
The foot on ice will slip
And light lanterns like halos
Will seem

I'll stand in a strange place
Neither here nor there
Not at the wall
And not in the centre of the street
It is my choice
It is my
Civil position

The sky above
third mass transit ringroad
The song of Moscow youth
It seems
Like there's no end to it

With faces half covered
In the endless creak of doors
In which you can hear
Ghost talk
Standing in black clothes
Guards at the turnstiles

Over white fields
Below us
Birds

On the plane everything is prohibited:

Drinking of alcohol
Unfastening
Getting up on takeoff
To smoke
Throwing paper into the toilet

But noone!
Will not take away!
Your right to

Birds are singing
In the sun basks a cat
I cry in my sleep

Frozen hands
And soul
And lips
To the scorching earth
I place

So that's where you hid
beloved

Strolling dogs
Under the red sky
Everything blossoms

Like a patient in hot delirium
Baffled phone is rebooting
is rebooting,
rebooting,
rebooting...

The machine is scared in this paradise
And she still is trying
to wake up

In a blooming garden
All thoughts are only about her

Are you fast asleep
My dear

Homeland

it's not so empty
In the desert
Here is a stone
Here is a dry branch
It's not fun
and
It's not sad

The wind raised the sand
To the very, to the clouds

How to explain the hidden

to a one-day butterfly?

The wind crumples palm trees
The street is poured over by rain
In the pocket
Someone's
Only key

Talking bird
Spent all of life
At the faulty crane

And so she got out
Beautiful songbird
Flew into the shady garden

Wild roses
And tender red poppies
Trees full of greenery

Everything is flooded with a song
from the bird heart:
everyone is listening
to the sound of falling drops of
Water

Dry foliage on rough plates
At the threshold of the desert spring
May this palm be a Willow
May this palm be a willow
May this palm be a Willow!

Until the end of time
Amen