Wondering,
scratching,
thinking…
How much nudity this place needs?
How many careless nights it will take to understand the sadness of continuation?
Perhaps the trees, the lagoon, in this painting has been made with similar anger…
the light fades in the corner and I know once you become the expectations of modern cremations…
it’s too hard to get back.
This will go with me, I know nothing else,
I know the sickness, the filths have truth,
I know I have seen compassion in forms of regular actions,
and I can see when a poem goes nowhere except to the broken bones of a beautiful loser.
Stay, stay here for a minute…the traffic on the road is getting thin…now it’s time I take you…
It’s time i impregnate you with my rejections of settlement,
my journey towards indigenous intercourses.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Alexey Bednij.