By age I could already be
in the government. But I do not like
but) columns of numbers, b) they intrigue,
at) gabardine their chains.
In a democracy,, how and kogtyah tyrant,
opening his arms of, get up early to ministers,
and there is nothing uglier awake,
folder than plump bows and ribbons.
AND, in its turn, unbearable carpet with a pattern
intricate and its podzol
of mikrofonchik, dust mixed with colorless,
giving strong shoots thoughts rabid.
But intolerable in all infill with skirting,
brown, squareness with smack
education; oats relief, whether wheat,
and outlines the type of power schnitzel.
No, I do not fit the post of Minister.
I do not get bored too quickly.
Still - I often forget the name and patronymic.
Maybe, otrochestvo methyl, it odrochestvo.
When is the homeland of my thought comes to mind,
I know her by sight, even more so - naked:
face it - my, and I do not like.
But no government, to cope with this feeling,
il I - not a member of his. I would say easier, but
in my, maybe, something so flawed,
that not repair or screwdriver elections,
nor rude Code, nor simply risers.
Only those worthy of the title of citizen,
who does not expect absolutely nothing to
who - from the state to the drug –
except themselves, and clocks,
a race who is in a hurry with them, persistently ticking,
to which - a natural thing, where - wild
I could not say, even pull their socks,
Head portrait, otsepenev of terror.