Author of quotes: Igor Lazunin

Soul with precious things.

While inspiration is asleep,
And the whistle flows out of the warm throat,
I'll drink alcohol from the lines of poetry,
And in the faces of the stanza will be dry and naked.

I will hear with a disturbed heart.

Iodine October trees are treated.
Rain on the asphalt sculpts puddles of suction cups.
Grown into the abyss of the evening with a newspaperwoman
Newsstand bathyscaphe.

The shore runs away and into the water
Enters better than the best jumper.
Shaggy Yard Breed Day
The sun bent on my lap.
Reflections in the lake sink,
But there is no trace of the ripples.
Without hesitation, the heavenly toga
He tries on water.
I saturate my soul from the belly
September, dissolved in verse.
Life, like seeds, husks muse.
The world around is in a golden husk.

I barely wake up.
What a sensitive hangover!
What endurance and tact!
Scalded liver waks,
About something about his babble
Gastrointestinal tract.
It will be very ugly
The one that in the morning will not give for beer.

your.

And the ugliness secretly pleases.

honest!

And kiss the air passionately.

Days and nights of the might of the groves.

In drafts encrypted rustle
You put all of what was.
Fly away, not getting tangled in the curtains,
Not hitting on the frame of the wing.

You have requested: believe APR.
And I once believed,
When slurped spring juice
And calendar week
Crossed obliquely.

The city of midnight in the juice
Twinkling star clusters.
And a month fell asleep on his side,
Pressing the habit of his knees.
And looking through tulle flow
Flashes on the lunar gas...
In Notepad will remain the
It is seen that the soul, not the eye.