Dream without a dream

I’ 12 and I’m very depressed

love fantasy

jesus

pills

creating an altar

but my sister is not into religion

orange carpet

and I

loneliness

almost masculine

harsh

the imagination

of the catholic church

is rigid

i need more spring

more spring flowers and water

but not to holy mary

this men in white gowns must be very sad

priests

boys in entrapment

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Exile

M

I wish I was a murderer
they are very cool
what can I do what can I do

I wish I could slaughter and be applauded by friends
but I am weak and faint

There is nothing I can do about my constitution
I also don’t agree with prostitution

I need to go to the hills
wearing my high heels

With all those terribly boring people
who don’t kill

That’s the end of my stupid song
I’m going to become friends
with a Christian monk

Christmas Borsch

At the Christmas table my father in law

quotes Marx and says that Lenin was a righteous fellow

I think he says it for me to hear it

but I don’t know

At the Christmas table my mother in law

never talks about politics

and is very devoted to catholic faith

but turns the blind ear to everything

as long as it pays

I sit at this Christmas table

eating their borsch

and feeling quite stupid and dumb

while thinking about my atheist aunt

who was rotting in communist prison

for rejecting the pravda’s of Lenin and Marx

My father in law

is sitting next to me and I don’t know why on my right

again quoting Engels and Marx

and I am eating this salty borsch

thinking about my grandpa’s running away from the Soviet’s hands

I want to get up

but my mother in law

pours into my plate just a little more

of her

sour Christmas borsch.