A poet without a mustache. Window (№ 158767)

I will start Smoking or better vodka will pour inner world,
Expelled from all the gloomy, boring...
But no, let's shoot it, because someone love heroin
But did not, and we need to restore balance,
Account to refill. These poems are not for you
For me to remember second by second.
Where is that quack from the emerald city?
On the contrary he will do all
Sawdust in the head, courage takes heart and a will take.
Here then is good...
And now I want to staloch stone into powder
Melt, kill...
Or melt in the middle of the rows.
Or a bird in a flock of ravens.
Or all to answer: "I don't know."
Hide in a corner, to get rid of the ambitions.
Just allow yourself for one moment to be forgotten.