poems in grief SAROV
1.
i copied
coordinates from the map of Sarov graveyard
grand-grand-ma, grand-grand-ma, grand-grand-pa
i didn't know them, but i can find them.
the road there with my mom
long
and unsure
she said that my uncle wants to bury you on the main alley
she won't copy the coordinates for me
because i won't ask her
how can one even ask that?
so i won't know these numbers
until i come myself
i pray i'll be able to come
i'm so scared they won't let me in
to copy your coordinates from the map of the graveyard.
now these numbers will be waiting for me
instead of you,
grandpa
08.11.2023
00:15
2.
crocodile swings
sun in the abandoned playground
firebugs
laundry drying in the backyard
pancakes that you couldn't make
lattice on the windows and that orange cat
houses built by german captives
your striped t-shirt
your always the same sweater
cutlets
those long flowers in the backyard
garage that is not yours anymore
and i'm climbing it alone
bathtub with flowered water in the garden
that doesn't exist anymore
essay about Bereschino? total bullshit
Bereschino is fainting and crumbling to dust
you don't need a bridge that goes nowhere
***
i'm sitting down on the warm garage roof
that smells like gasoline
brushing off mosquitoes
swinging my legs down
looking at the old tower
with the sunset behind
i'm looking at burning Sarov
i'm sitting alone
i'm the only one who gets the value of the path
to the roof of the not-yours-anymore garage
where you can sit on the warm roof
and look at how Sarov burns
04.02.2024
22:50