From the "School of the anthology"

1. E. Larionov

E. Larionov. Brunette. Daughter
colonel, and typists. view
It resembled a glance at the dial.
It sought to help each.
Once we lay side by side
on the beach and crumbled chocolate.
She said, pohlyadev forward,
there, where the yacht did not change tack,
What if I want to, I can.
She loved kissing. Mouth
It reminded me of caves Kars.
But I'm not scared.
recollection is, as a trophy,
so on some incomprehensible front
captured from unknown enemies.
Lover of rich women, zapechny Kotofey,
D. Kulikov appeared on the horizon,
She married her Dima Kulikov.
She went to work in the Women's Choir,
and he blows on the license plant.
He - a sort of bony Engineer…
And I still remember the long corridor
and our site Landfill Neu on the commode.
Dima - ugly pioneer.

Where all delos? where landmark?
And how to find today, than
their subsistence transformed?
In her eyes, she lurked a strange world,
even she herself incomprehensible. However,
misunderstood and as a wife.
alive Kulikov. I lived. It - Live.
And this world - where did it go?
Or maybe, He wakes them at night?..
And I mumble their words.
Because of the wall pieces are carried waltz,
rain and noise of broken bricks…

2. ABOUT. wormed

Oleg wormed. His father
He was the coach of fencing. Firmly
he knew it all: attacks, an injection.
He was not a devourer of hearts.
But, as it happens in the world of sports,
he scored from an offside position your goal.
Offside was night. Mother was ill,
and the younger brother yelled from the cradle.
Oleg armed with an ax.
father went, and the war.
But in time the neighbors arrived,
and son overcame four.

I remember his face and hands,
then - the foil with a wooden handle:
we fenced in the kitchen sometimes.
He got hold of a fake ring,
splashing in our communal bathroom…
We threw him to school, and then
he went to cooking courses,
I milled in the "Arsenal".
He baked pancakes in the Tauride Garden.
We had fun carrying the firewood
and sold Christmas trees at the station
the New Year.
Then he, unfortunately,
in company with some Shantrapa
I picked up the store and received a three-year.
He toasted his rations at the stake.
freed. experienced binge.
He worked on the construction of the plant.
It was, it seems, Married to a nurse.
He began to draw. And if wanted
learn from the artist. Mostly
His landscapes were like –
in still life. Then he flew
for tricks with sick leave.
And now - it was the silence.
For many years I do not see him. himself
I was in prison, but there was not met.
Now I'm on the loose. But here,
Nowhere do not see him.
he is somewhere wandering and breathes the wind.
our kitchen, no prison, our Institute
We did not take it, and he vanished.
As Santa Claus, having had time to change clothes.
I hope, that he is alive and unharmed.
And it excites interest,
the rest of the characters of childhood.
but most, than they, irrevocable.

3. T. Zimin

T. Zimin, Pretty baby.
Mother - engineer, and father - scorekeeper.
I, however, they have never seen.
It was nevpechatlitelna. Though
She married her border pilot.
But it was after. And the trouble
it has happened before. She has
had a kinsman. Some of the regional committee.
With machine. And ancestors lived apart.
They've been, apparently, his.
The car - it was unfamiliar.
Well, with this there it all started.
she worried. But then
things were like on the mend.
In the distance loomed gloomy Georgians.
But suddenly he got into government house.
It - give yourself the counter
a large haberdashery.
linen, colognes, cloth
- she liked the whole atmosphere,
Secrets friends and fans.
Passers-by stare out the window.
Away - House Officers. officers,
like birds, with a mass of buttons, around.

the pilot, return from heaven,
welcomed her prettiness.
He made a champagne salute.
Marriage. However, in the Air Force
terribly respected innocence,
built in some absolute.
And this kind of scholasticism fault
so, she nearly drowned.
I found a bridge too, but came the winter.
The channel was covered with a crust of ice.
Again, she hurried to the counter.
Lashes pubescent fringe.
On ashen hair flowed
Neon lights chandelier.
Spring - and open doors
of the flow of customers rages.
She stands in the gloomy track
looking for clothes, Laurel.

4. YU. Sandul

YU. Sandul. kindness ferret.
mordashka, sharpened to a nose.
tell tales. Always - collar.
I experienced the delight of the visor.
He declaims in the restroom on the,
pinning whether a tunic icon.
pin up on. exult
in general, from all characters and symbols.
Honored titles and ranks, to mallow.
He liked to call himself "fizorgom".
But there was staroobrazen, Jacob,
He considered his whip abrasions.
It was subject to the effects of colds,
I sit at home in bad weather.
Masturbate Bradis table. Yearning.
Knew chemistry and eager to Institute.
But after school I thundered in the infantry,
in secret underground army.

Now it is something drills. they say,
on "Diesel". Possibly inaccurate.
But the accuracy of here, perhaps, to nothing.
Sure, specialty and category.
But, the main thing, he learns in absentia.
And here we lift the fringe.
He leafs through the dusk "Sopromat"
and absorbs Marx. By the way,
books such as the night time
They exude a special flavor.
I do not want to consider themselves working.
Hunting, generally, the next grade.

He aims at dusk to the borders
otherwise. metal resistance
In a pleasant theory. O yes!
He rushes to the engineers, to the figures.
He will become to them, through thick and thin.
Well, like this… the amount of labor,
surplus value… progress…
And the whole scholasticism on the market…
He climbs through dense forests.
married to. But time is running out.
And he prefers to party,
casual dating, address.

"Our future - smile - Engineer".
He recalls a gloomy mass
and looks out the window past the girls.
He is alone to your own style.
He changes his own class.
May be, I go to far. But
Using class rental
dangerous male perfidy.
- Sin youth. Blood, breakwater, hot. –
I remember even sincere poster
about casual acquaintance.
But there is no clinic, no doctor
these underclass, to
protect themselves against inflammation.
And if we are not the era of wife,
something that did not pass this microbe
of it - in other generations.
This relay is not needed.

5. BUT. Chegodaev

BUT. Chegodaev, Shorty, vrun.
Language, to glasses suspended. grimace
doubts. Thinker. adorable
touch the most intimate strings
in the hearts of teachers - out of class.
How to buy. And like obnazhal
our vices via the wall
Freudian lust (border
between private and shared not hold).
Parents, shining gray,
milked the famous table.
Husband daughter and father-creator
in the living room adorned the wall
and a race overseen childhood
it bachkami, Patlakh the fords.
As the days passed, and the boy drank quite
polar greatness, whose neighborhood
eventually bore fruit.

but strange. However, beard
She gained the upper hand (pale healer
Russian girl-students stepped into the darkness):
they took possession once and for all
Romance of large newspaper letters.
He served in the historic. His
bad luck. He escaped from the networks,
all arranged military offices,
I huddled in the corner. And in his mind
zamelteshila mass areas
knowledge: Bionics and Atom,
Astrophysics. In a circle
one's friends, the same wise men,
He thought about each option:
which one is more effective with persons.
He filed a Mountain. But in the end
He dived into the Road, and the treble
suddenly sounded hoarseness:
“It is the basis of the road… such
their role in civilization… are not gods,
and their men… We should grow…”
more words, what items, and words
there for all. And for the road.
And he hastened to say all of them.
One, with an increase in the sixty-meter,
without privacy, in the tumult of steam
what could he attract attention?
He made a vow, read stories,
celibacy - just, on fire.
However, the patroness of meetings
Venus is waiting around the corner
in their tiny subsistence –
star, no different night
by noon. Marriage and diploma.
distribution. In the queue to the cashier
embrace new relatives: daughter!

Tajik endless hills.
Machines are digging the ground. Chegodaev
hand with nepovzroslevshego person
wipes sweat shade of mercuric chloride,
honor some swarthy scoundrels.
words left. Penetrate to the end
in them the essence of it - and get out of the
their way - could not. Stuck on the.
Highway gone in a brown haze
both ends. All in sweat,
he wanders at night naked on the parquet
not in his own apartment, and in the corner
large plot, which - Round,
with an unclear idea of ​​green leaves.
The woman hrapit… o Lord, even cry…
He goes to the table and, overhang of the corner,
creaking in the shower and swaggered in letters,
weaves a web of. lone weaver.

6. F. Antsiferova

Antsiferova. Jeanne. placed
It was a miracle. The Rubens taste.
The name and the name always
hiding officer wife.
Cadet submarine was in the course of
Dutch school of painting. Yes
God forgive me, but still like vesch
is pioneering speech voice!
And so we have expressed their delight:
"You take it all in his hands, maeshsya thing!»
and "Those legs on my shoulders would!»
…Now around it - Vladivostok,

raw hills, bay, clouds.
Medvedica, staring into the bedroom,
and fir, replacing spruce.
One-sixth of really big.
Lying in bed, as a compass in the drawing instruments,
She looks at the naval greatcoat,
and buttons, glittering in a row,
resemble lights quarter
and childhood and, moment later,
huge, the black, wet Leningrad,
where right from the prom
He stepped on the ship joking.

lucky? Yes. Cutting and sewing.
Working in club. Raids on burning
autumn hills. wash before dark.
And her memories
merge more and more with this:
from his twenty-eight, she
twelve years has been living away
all memory objects, with her husband.
The submarine comes up from the depths.
The village is asleep. And on the edge of the earth
slams the door. And it has done already
distance from the consequences of the reasons.

Bomber moans in the clouds.
Frogs chant breaks out of the ditch.
Tinkling crystal slide
during each handstands.
And the music flows from Okinawa,
fashion magazine moving pages.

7. BUT. Frolov

Albert Frolov, silence lover.
Mother stamp pounded envelopes
at the post office. As for his father,
he fell for independence Chukhnov,
having to extend the name of Albert,
but not having seen Albert's face.

The son of a genius raised in the silence.
I remember that a lump on top:
He crawled under the table to zoology,
ascertaining the absence of the soul
in conjunction raspatronennoy frog.
Which later provided space

the flight of his thoughts, what is the
he gave himself up to the institute,
where he joined in the fight with the archangel.
And so, how sogreshivshiy cherub,
he fell to the ground from the clouds. And then it
he found at hand pipe.

Sound - a form of silence Continued,
likeness developing tapes.
soliruya, He mows the pupils
at the mouth, where twinkling, lit.
sofitami, - long applause
Do not blow them out there - fireflies.

But what happened in the evening, and in the afternoon –
day star is not visible. Even from a well.
wife left, not to wash socks.
Old mother cared for him.
He began to drink, subsequently - using drugs
God knows what. Probably, with longing,

with despair - but the devil will disassemble.
I am in this, Unfortunately, not versed.
There is another, it seems, scale:
when you play, see ahead
eight strokes - ampoules Well, as a beacon of
sixteen illuminated… mirrors

palaces of culture, where its composition
I played, vbirali hmuro and polite
features, eczema moth. But
then, re-charter
his decomposition kolektiva,
fired. AND, squeezing: "shit!»

it, like fading "la",
not having made a further route
idle wealth hards,
as the line, that fit on the field,
rather - bringing to the absolute
dismissal of the idea, disappeared.


On January, in the dead of night,
my boat moored in Sochi.
thirsty. I moved randomly
the alleys, Go away
from the port to the center, and in the heat of the night
I came to a restaurant service "Cascade".

It was New Year. counterfeit needles
hung from trees. Along the tables circled
Georgian rabble, singing "Tbilisi".
Everywhere there is life, and then I had a.
Hearing solo, I tensed
and raised above the bottles face.

"Cascade" was full. miraculously finding
extending to the platform, in the chaos of the clang
and smells I hunched back
He said: "Albert" and touched the sleeve;
and terrible, monstrous mask
Turnover slowly to me.

solid scabs. dried and
nabryakshye. Only matted strands,
pristine scabs, and look
They belonged to a schoolboy, in my,
I his, kosivshemu notebook
twelve years ago,.

"How did you get here in the off-season?»
Dry skin, wrinkled as
crust. Pupils - like proteins from the hollow.
"And you yourself like?» “I, you see, Jason.
Jason, zastyarvshy the winter in Colchis.
My eczema requires heat…”

Then we went. rare lights,
Heaven prevents Boulevard
merger. Quarterly - Ossetians.
And even here, keep a low profile
my guide, man with case.
"Are you here alone?" "Yes, I think, one".

Jason? Unlikely. Job, heaven
nothing to reproach, just
merging with the night on his stomach
and death… The coastline,
and pungent smell of seaweed with Ost,
invisible palms rustling - and here

all suddenly swung. And then in the darkness
for a moment flashed something on the dock.
And the sound floated, weaving in silence,
after retreating feed.

And I heard, full of sadness,
"Sky-high the moon".

1966 – 1969

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Joseph Brodsky
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