Dedicated to Girolamo Marcello

Once I sailed here in the winter, too
from Egypt, considering, that I met
dammed at the waterfront wife a fur coat
and in a hat with a veil. However, to meet me
she did not come, and two little old lap dog
with gold teeth. The owner-American
He explained to me later, that if he was robbed,
lapdogs will allow him to bring
for the first time to make ends meet.
I chimed in, and laughed.

Quay seemed endless
and deserted. Winter, potustoronnyy
Light transforms the palaces in china
and the population - in the, who it
It does not dare to touch.
None of what veils, about any coat
speech was not. The only thing clear
thing was the air and pink, lace
curtain in the hotel "Meleager and Atalanta",
where already, Eleven years ago,
I could, it would seem that, guess,
that the future, Alas, already
it is. When a person is alone,
he is in the future, because it can
do, in turn, without supersonic things,
boat-tailed, deposed tyrant,
collapsed statue. When a person is unhappy,
he is in the future.
Now I do not get
more in a hotel room on all fours,
mimicking the furniture and protected from
own maxims. Now die of grief,
afraid, meant to die
with delay; and do not like being late
it is in the future.
Quay teeming
teenagers, boltayushtimi in Arabic.
Veil has grown into a web of rumors,
have passed later in the network of wrinkles,
and lapdogs long been swallowed up their dog Auschwitz.
Can not see, and host. Seem to be, that survived
just me and water: and because she
no past.


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