1913issue6online

58 In Support of Sound when you forget of streets plied into art of what you wanted to say and therefore didn’t of yellow counter-culture clubs, these hearts empty as train stations mine-laden, ticking leave a comp for me at the ticket booth make the poster take sail with your autograph en route to the show i stumble on an empty path a bus scrapped like the wings of icarus all that’s left of the map of the baltic states: two crossings on palms blacked by blood and asphalt and fragments of teenage pop-chart hits roaming free through a burned-out boom box that’s how we’ll learn there’s no second chance and the motor has drowned itself in sorrow we’ll awake at a factory’s holiday dance in a cafeteria cold as a ball field in winter don’t take it to heart, or not so close death will totally pass us by if you blow the melody out like smoke over the hard disc’s darker side inhale again and hold it in awhile though there’s more than enough to go around for the snow-covered expanse of the expanded mind that will wake quickly, and melt to the ground by Igor Belov translated by Matvei Yankelevich

1913issue6online

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