Poetry: Selections from Mykyta Ryzhykh
The naturalization of hatred
Every day the giant boulders of the brain create little sons to atone for guilt
Are sons resurrected?
The magnolia outside the window blooms expressively quietly, as if guessing something
I pretend to be a god every morning over a cup of coffee
Castrated calm screams in the language of stones
Motherland of life
The taste of faith
Wrath service of the gun
Time to change clothes and pick up picks
What do you see
the inner kitten will bring the devil's slippers in his teeth in the morning in exchange for
living space with Wi-Fi
what do you see being blind
the sexual joy of a mouse pressed to the floor by a cat's paw
hate pornography with guts out
sun bunnies devoured by air wolves
What do you see
the deceased son comes every night in a dream in tears and asks to be resurrected
The film begins after the ending, when a balding virgin takes off her wig, like a fancy dress costume, and shoves the wig into a face on the other side of the screen.
Hungry rats need to be fed body parts.
Last but not least, feed with the brain, never with the heart.
In the last turn of people today - it is necessary to make your way. No need to push your way into people. It is better to try to become a butterfly.
Religion is a hobby club for those who have never died
The secret of the soul
Secretion of guilt
Who will kiss my neck and turn me into a vampire?
The dream of a soldier who will turn a gun into a sex shop toy
Who will kiss me?
Mosquitoes fly to the scent of blood
So are military pilots
There are as many explosions as there are stars in the sky
Every night to underground storage and bunkers
An alarm siren sounds
Life is wonderful as if it started from an egg and not from a dead chicken
Mykyta Ryzhykh has been published in the journals Dzvin, Ring A, Polutona, Rechport, Topos, Articulation, Formaslov, Colon, Literature Factory, Literary Chernihiv, on the portals Literary Center and Soloneba.
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