Pretend we were in this prehistory, times
suspended on brass wire
slides and eyes. That we didn't hatch now,
of idyllic colour incontinence, in the age
The actual temptation of destiny
(and good!).
Try to miss ages in which you do not
You were acquainted with substances existing in the laws of logic,
but so different from her.
It's not possible?
an eternal journey in flowerpower,
a device of colored light, which flies
on the dark road where they stand
'public officials'
(I look distant with distaste),
And it's happening with quite a few caution, the ones without us,
they must appear to be a fly sitting on the eyelid,
With a puncture wound.
Someone will say:
– what would this nostalgia be for – for ties?
Only a fool would complain!
In a minute, someone's gonna knock on their forehead.
And I just wanted to get serious.
for a second and without holding
(e, however, it is unnecessary culture!).
