Intro..
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Poems..



       You know: Madam Editor: I do not know: how I did it. I was probably lucky only: and:
I did not publish a book or CD :and: I even did not arrange an exhibition of my paintings -
I didn't connect my life with some powerly dick: who know: how to do it:   who will decide:
what will be: and: what will be not - who will decide: what he will need from me  - so as -
he will be underlined or better-off.
       I had the luck: Madam Editor: that: I can't make money from things what I love.
       And can you feed from with thing what you love?
       Isn't it a prostitution?*        
       Decidedly: a lot of people it will draw to prostitution. 
       Who has so much uniqueness inside of him**   - so he could manufacture from it every
day?***
       Well  then: dear Madam: a man like me: he must simply look for happiness:   where it
is. :You understand.
       Recently:  I felt again that huge and responsible fear:        when I entered to the
bookstore - this all I have to read! - It is my duty:        if I want to join to all these
artists: who entered to awareness: but there is so plenty much of it:  I should go also for
exhibitions: buy the literary periodical every week: and: study at an art school:     oh my
God: but: I'm so busy with myself: that: I probably fuck it all.****


       And in my opinion: Madam Editor: a poet is always naive  - there is no school for us
nor an extramural studies.
      
       You know: I can not comply the services: because:      I accept only wizardry or the
truth: and the truth is: that: artworks are mostly a recycle of people:   who like to watch
their own creations.
       And more: the poor artists must keep theirs brand:  business is necessary:  you have
to eat something: wives and children: want to go on vacation - some car    - just a reward:
because: you're all day long: so alone for yourself.
       Many books and pictures are sold as nice furniture   - on a shelf - nice shiny backs
of colored editions: brown-orange oil: nice colors together with sofa:        a lot of rich
philosophers like to look owlishly and insightfully:      over here is giant field for your
business: Foxy    
       The geniuses found in the system are able to cooperate  - they will lose something -
but everything take something.  :The problem is you: Foxy:    cos you know how to fuck with
it: and: you are there enough to be infiltrated all the structures       (I hope, Dear: you
keeping up with those my quick changes of addresses ..)

       And although: a long ago: we put down from the walls the shaggy Santa: Marx:     the
class struggle constantly rages. :Rappers will tell you: that: we have our own art   - gold
chains and luxury cars: new sneakers and pretty bitches: and: you cocksuckers     - fuckin'
elite - you can court: dash on the walls and study the atonality:    you can suck your thin
cocks together..
       Just as soon as finding a couple of dicks: Ms Editor:    who feels they are a group:
they want to have everything their own immediately. The art: own poetry:    and so it walks
through the history  - as well as Foxies - as a large group of averages  - which dominates:
they made so much for us: sometimes: you can not find anything else for long     - only fox
shit.

       True: I don't know: it would probably be annoying - and needy  - if it were all of a
good quality: and according to my ideas - probably yes  - it is also necessary to take into
account the ocean: in which can to sail and to look for. 
       :Simplier Foxy will concoct fluffy product: which however:    at least can lead to a
desire for something better.
       Maybe Foxy can manage at least a couple of good verses inside   - or he will mix the
yellow and red in a nice way: and: this will then serve the seeker as a fixed place:  where
he can lay foot: and: to bounce the right one direction.
       
       So we came back to where we were: Dear: you see: to the beginning. I do not have any
recipe for: how to change this unfortunately: it is possible: it's all about quantum nature
of before-dreamed. It is just very different as I imagined: Madam Editor:      I've already
written about it: 
       :To verify your propulsive hypothesis: it's dangerous.
       :I like the name - Alice  -  this name: which once promised me so much: but:    when
finally I got this book in my hand: I was disappointed - this is it?           - Certainly?
Wonderland? Little Prince? The catcher in the Rye? Lucien Freud?
       Maybe it is all: in too much specificity of my the best: and:   in the consequential
disappointment.



        *Isn't it a bit like the things Saturn did?
        **No offense Sister: I'm a boy: but it's the same for you:
        ***Practical reality will reduce you to a few numbers:  or make you a duplicator of
successful copies.
        ****No: Sis: you don't have to do anything: just what you want.     :If you want to
write: you have to write: no: you don't have to read a lot of other books by other authors:
if you want to draw: you just have to draw:    you don't have to listen to:  those covetous
dicks: who want to sell you the kind of dubious fucking routine: they call education:    if
you have talent: you will be the original creator. You're not an eater.   You don't have to
eat: you don't have time to eat: you have to make food



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