Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

Eleven poems

Where Culture and Recreation embrace On the crowns of united trees, Someone’s boy drops a Panama hat And looks around, growing still: For the first time he comes outside barefoot. Sharing the universal chills. Under a blister incredibly bloated, Under his iridescent gizzard.

With papa’s military march And with mama’s silken legs He tries to make himself older, But today no luck, he didn’t manage.

To be more cultured than the park of recreation, Smoother than glass, closer to bronze. You hear, one urn responds to another And the hollow confirms the hollow:

305