I was nimble Maltsev
Fish out coins from depths
Are you in their frank blindness
Obaschala attention on my platsmassovye toys.
And when the cops closed down shop,
I shaved my baby hair,
Spur map with marked page of
And called Teb everywhere.

I found you?
My flightless bird, crying with jealousy,
Or lost you?
American-mouth
Great strange beak.

And now I'm a fat house cat,
Cursing his vile language
I look like rats have eaten poison
Their way through the wide cracks in the fence
Kissing on the photo in the magazine
Pecking at the bait thrown in the cold and clean
Like a mountain stream of the blood of Christ.

I found you?
My flightless bird, with bleeding brown feathers
Or lost you?
American-mouth
Big beak, silently leaning downwards.