Volga 1 - 3

( while taking a tour through those poems readers are requested to keep in their hands, a feather from the pea-cock’s tail ) Volga - 1 there might have been some provocation on the part of the rat’s bible it is not known when and how every piece of sleep that spatters from the oesophagus of the dip-swimming has stick to the c-sharp of the newly-purchased tooth-brush the air within the wish-bicycle figures nothing less how much is it necessary now to murder the blue-hue with the study that can be saved by the depression of the Ganges-basin to develop the snap-shot of the garland-exchange with the antiseptic cream would you think it for some moments my lord the lord of the market before sending any secret e-mail to the cyclone residing in the room behind the stair-case let the Volga be read once more with all its clothes and hair-styles Volga - 2 the winter of the water-canon oxidised by the fireflies wants to touch every bamboo-flute of this soil, it seems as if it plays in the body of every cauliflower the total memorising-skill of the blue and yellow pyramid and if some lines of changes in the planet be added the birth-day of the bolster that goes to the sea may learn with a lesser effort the pollen-efficiency of the nail-marked walls how much should I scold the squirrels who don’t want to swim in the still-water of the black-board Volga – 3 the green-circuit of the fried-almonds that was submerged in the open-hair of the afternoon the whole-night workshop has taught the thumb-impression is to be put how far below it if the autobiographies are planted into the drawer of nature the solubility of the river-reed gets it done too late at night all the plus-signs around from their etiquettes come down so many foot-notes caused by the season-changes so before planting life to the address of the wall-lamps it seems the cotton-flower written by the oceans began yawning