Author of quotes: Michael Yudovsky

Drinks story prefer alcohol.
She curled up in a ball under a fence asleep
And dreams of past times,
And the totality of their sends.
Our time is worse only by the fact that we live in it,
Tired of pressing topics, over the empty stubble
Half asleep whirling like frightened quail.
History sleeps. She was again drunk.
Man is something, ready to become nothing,
Like sand, like flour sifted through a sieve.
Title few and chosen not at all.
In heaven marching military parade of planets.
... But tell me - restless each other snas,
What are we, what is any of us?
Do not trifle do, it does it all
Or, perhaps, the highest grace?
I look to the heavens. And, not believing, waiting for an answer.
And only God knows how long I'll wait.