metropolises are so fucking prepared
for loneliness
every park and every embankment
every wet bench up an empty avenue
these are for your disposal

you are worse than others if
they choose them rather than you but
what about if
they do choose loneliness rather than you?
are you worse than everyone else?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2021

poetry is cold and empty like outer space
like voracious cronus who devours his own sons
no matter how many verses you’ve thrown to the gorge
it burps out, calling for more

poetry is cold and empty like outer space
there are always moons where no foot may tread
no matter how loud you’ve shouted to the craters
it echoes out, calling for more

poetry is cold and empty like outer space
stellar wind drives tumbleweeds through the milky way
no matter how far you’ve overstepped the bounds
it erases out, calling for more

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2021