a Circus, Part #1 (Fragment #006)

…I woke up on a big heap of rotten beetroot and zucchini. It had a terrible stink… No! It was more than that — a hellish stink! I coughed and tried to open my eyes.

I was in semi-darkness… though a few minutes later my eyes adjusted to it. But, I wasn’t too happy with the picture I saw. And the main reason for this was the goon who was sitting on the wooden box opposite me. He looked sore, and his feathers were shabby and mucky. “He doesn’t look kosher…” Why do such stupid thoughts come to mind at times like this? Is it a self-defense mechanism when confronting madness?

Fuck! Yesterday I had relished the sterling French accent of my Chilperic as he entreated me to be more prudent, to not have common affairs with this hillbilly Henry… I didn’t listen to him, unfortunately… At that moment, the choice of my eyeliner’s color to pair with my evening dress had been more important to me… I was a fool! Stupid chicken! I tried to recall the previous evening. It was still a fog in my memory, just a gray and sticky fog… Suddenly, I recalled.

A howitzer!

It had begun with a conversation about the howitzer barrel aimed at the banquet! (to be continued)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

My special thanks to the one and only Cyan Ryan,
a great friend and an excellent editor,
for grammar corrections and improvements this essay!

Inevitability

Inevitability is so close.
There are many words and little sense.
I realize that it’s an overdose,
but less can’t make me truly tense.

It’s easy. Just deny all natural laws.
Let it flow through your dry inside.
Inevitability is so close…
Just trust yourself to its wide tide.

The end of agonizing suspense.
There are few words and a lot of sense.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

a Wind horse

A wind horse gallops
on the fields of dreams with ease.
You crave for riding
but you cannot get your tongue
around its authentic name.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

Implanted

I took lessons of humility
from the worn roadside stones.
Nothing can teach civility
so well as the shattered bones.
That’s why my posture is queenly
and my manners are aesthetic.
Your sense of beauty knows so keenly
when reality is prosthetic.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

a Canvas

Its motions are chary and deft.
Stitch by stitch. Right to left.
I’m a warp. You’re a weft.
Time weaves a life canvas.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014