Ivan Peledov

a boy played his sister's flute
standing in the corner in a litter box in
order to wake me up
wrapped in a soviet flag the skin
peeling off black gloves
falling on the roofs the boy
was going to catch a flu
to shave his head to wallow in
the retreating snow take a bath to swim
to the eighth shore to spit
at passing hydrofoils and barges to kiss
his elder sister on the
embankment of the channel of
the dead to say
that communism was nothing but a game to
read the words buried in the concrete i
don't remember what else