vasilinaorlova:

Madame, enjoy
Your temporary stay
In our glorious and hospitable state,
And if you ever want to hesitate,
Don’t hesitate to hesitate, but do
Hesitate, for cooling hot cocoa,
I’d very much like to watch you agonizing
Over chocolate; the greatest accolade
That chocolate deserves which is
Meticulously agonized over.

I populated the world with traces.
all I need is just the lightest touch
for the pyramid of rose petals to collapse,
grow into an avalanche,
and bury the city,
suffocate the citizens,
petrify a dog wriggling on her leash
   forever

If I were a rich woman — but I am not rich —
All I have to my name is my elusive fame —
I would
Live alone in the center of the city
In a wonderful apartment,
Concerning myself with nothing
But begonias on my window,
I would read a poetry book I picked last year,
I’d write not
A single line,
I would not tolerate a single human being next to me,
I would come as I please and exit as I wish,
And I will never
Look in a mirror.

1.

it
          ’

             s

r                          a
          i
    n                 i

          n

g


2.

enjoy
  the joy


3.

oh

    why

not

      a

ring


4.

go—
  bite your knuckles


5.

it’s late
  I can relate
 to a latte
  or whatever


6.

it is so sad
  so sad
that I
  don’t have
     an eternity
at my disposal
at my feet
offering itself to me
opening its pink trap

I am not moving myself
Half an inch;
Reset
Your mind
If you feel like it,
I am staying
Where I was.

When I’m old,

I’m doing little

But complaining in a monotonous drawl

Detailing all the peculiarities

Of my insomnia

To my vanishing mirror reflection,

Then we—your ghost and I—

Can

Talk.

I had my round eyes,
I had my surprised mouth
Leaving the trail behind it
Wherever it went, like a mollusk,
Staining cups and cigarette ends with lipstick,
And fingers that never unclasped
A cigarette or a pen,
As I was readying myself
To dissect, to disassemble
A semblance of
Frankenstein’s monster, all secrets
Of the universe to cut out of the universe’s
Great abdomen,
To study intestines
Before stitching them back in
As if intact.

Does he think of me?

Yes / no.

Was it a hi for me?

Yes / no.

Do I want to know?

Yes / no.

funeral
of the doll,
pale face,
pink lace,
    I shall bury my doll
              my doll
              my doll

funeral of the doll
pale face
black dress
       I shall not bury my doll,
              my doll,
              my doll,
but I will adorn her hair with a bow
and make her sit at the abundant table
I will have a feast with her
we
will have a celebration,
I will not bury my doll

vasilinaorlova:

Only writers
Could have writer’s block;
To have a writer’s block
Is a privilege
Of a writer.
Don’t think that you might have it just like that,
Like any other thing you have;
No.
Take it seriously,
First
Buy a typewriter,
Then go to a coffee shop
With your laptop, and drink a decent amount
Of bad coffee,
Then walk through the park
With your silent notebook underarm,
Then try a goose feather on a stubborn sheet,
Wriggling out of your fingers,
Then you have your writer’s block,
As was your desire.

vasilinaorlova:

translation from non-existent original

red flower,

throwing itself in a well,

did you regret itself,

did you not want to become

a red feather?

vasilinaorlova:

I loved looking at the long red feather trembling in her hair.

in a farce of anger,
she did not possess herself
and threw random things
into a reverberating mirror,
which gulped them,
producing undulation,
and then calmed down on the surface.

(I still regret that brush.)

macabre

  cabaret

skeleton

 cotillion

cancan

  falling apart

parakeet

  parodying in the dark

the monkey’s piercing shriek

plates

   parade

procession

   goes its way

crustacean,

  I swear

lime is

  to blame

vasilinaorlova:

She is engaged, half-covering her face,
In palaver,
A feather fan trembles, heart plunges in a race—
The silk’s rumor outmurmurs her froufrou–
With an exquisite cadaver.