THE
ARMY ELEGY
The scent of a soldier's cock is beyond comparison
Which is well known in New York Berlin and Nice
There they know all about tenderness
When taking a sniff of the crotch
Terrains of alien pillows
Stains of alien sheets
The disparity of guns' caliber
Grows in viciousness and length
I didn't have anyone except the Army
Rosy-cheeked soldiers fall out of windows
When they try to gaze at the sky
Their resilient bodies are dragged away
(And there is something farcical in it)
The intoxicating smell of the barracks and dirty feet
The creaking tenderness of several pairs of entangled combat boots
(What to do – I couldn't do otherwise anymore!)
Foreign faggots are aroused by Russian soldiers
Russian soldiers are not afraid of foreign faggots
They bravely gaze at the sky
Many of them didn't have anyone except the Army
They fall out of windows
And their able young bodies fall into foreigners' hands
They are dragged across the border
Usually to Paris Berlin New York or Nice
Smuggled by a firmly united lusty gang
Getting through customs with difficulty
(The creaking and scent alone could drive one crazy
Where it not for the tenderness
That squeezed the crotch in the final gasps
Of disparate guns
xxxxalien sheets
xxxxxxxxand pillows)
1990, Moscow
Translated by Vitaly Chernetsky
SOME PEOPLE
some people
spread apart their legs
find a warm place
to put their hands
getting tighter tighter
it's hurting hurting
some people
put to the wheel their shoulders
tense their knees and their elbows
stretch their bits and their bridles
it’s burning burning
it’s fucking hurting
some people
arch their backs up
and make their hips round
somebody's face to a pulp beaten
their neck wrung
their rib cage broken
1992, Moscow
Translated by Alex Sigale and the Author
PARIS' BELLY
It’s Spring
xxxxxxxxxxand a hard-working Phallus
left it's taste for sailors' might
You came as an unexpected guest
strange for your kind of height
Don't believe yourself
just like I don't believe you
I close my eyes and you swim out orange
a delicate tender beast
Opening doors for you and your fellows
I'm trying to rub against your trust
I'm scared to death to approach the TV set
out comes this screen-sized cock full of scream
I'm also scared of COCKSTRUCTION workers
their cream
I forgot some words
but they come forwards
There's a special term
to signify this illness
I get names mixed up
My accidental associations
won't lead to kindness
and special oils won't provide consolation
I again open the doors
God forbid to find myself with you
in Paris' Belly
Come on
Get down on me
GET DOWN!
Translated by Alex Sigale and the Author
THE TRIUMPH OF THE FAMILY
this dreadful gray constancy
replaces for me today all colors
green blue red—what other ones are there?
i don't find a place for me here don't know where to sit
what to drink and to eat
was it long ago that daddy amused himself with his sonny?
the triumph of the family happened
mother was entertaining herself with the daughter
opening her mouth in the vicinity of hers
saliva poured slowly from here into there
never before two related bodies
were as close as then
green blue red
gray constancy
the identical you will never write like the different one
you were gone gone and the heart was beating
into the armpit like an exploded point
here is this one and here's another one completely different
you are getting used to signs of differentiation silly
are you getting completely assimilated?
while father was amusing himself
mother was entertaining herself
the triumph of the family happened
green blue red
Translated by Vitaly Chernetsky
NOT LEFT FOR MUCH
I live in a foreign house
I sleep in a foreign bed
Strange how they don't chase me
Strange how they don't trace me
Strange that they feed me
Strange that they pay me
Strange how often and hard
at night they stuff me
Strange how they tolerate me
Strange how they venerate me
Strange how they rotate me
on this foreign bed
I sleep in such a strange house
I live on such a strange bed
I am often in pain
There isn't much more of me left
I mean to say that
I’m not left for much
1996, New York
Translated by Dmitry Gelfand and the Author
AMERICAN SUPERMODELS
Oh those foggy supergazes
of american supermodels
their half-open superhalfmouths
languid supergestures
You fuck 'em
while they don't even notice
you dick their mouths (super!)
while they think it's supposed to be
Oh the submissive pliability
those half-celestial yet half-earthly creatures
their sexless ever-willingness
their whitish incorporeality
gloss of their superskin
One can not be not flattered by 'em
and not get a hard-on on
Sit 'em on your lap
what could be better
so they'll sing for hours
their unearthly supervoices
like some sort of chickens of paradise
unthinkable beautiful sirens
And supereyes of Medusa Gorgona
1996, New York
Translated by the Author
IF I WERE AN AMERICAN
If I were an American
I'd also domesticate a Russian slave for myself
I'd tell him: HEY, RUSKY!
WHY ARE YOU SO HUSKY?!
I'd yell at him: HEY, RUSSIAN!
WHY ARE YOU SUCH A TIGHT-ASSIAN?!
I wouldn't let him get feisty
I would keep him busy
until his Russian back fucking breaks!
(And keep in mind that it isn't so easy
to keep this Russian beast busy!)
I'd handcuff him
I'd dress him in pantyhose
I'd whip him first and later lash him
I'd get him really drunk with Molotov's cocktails
I'd choke him with my sweaty hands
I'd slash his throat
And finally I'd have my Russian slave shot
by a firing squad
Oh, if I were only an American!
1997, New York
Translated by Dmitry Gelfand and the Author
GÜNTER NEEDS SOMETHING TO DO
Günter needs something to do
So he smokes all day
And trains his dog
And makes strawberry-rhubarb jam
With a mandarin cheese cake
In a special KKK-hole
With a Hola-Cola
(cost one dollar)
With his penis tied up into a knot
And a plastik bag over his face
Next to the brothers Grimm grave
Günter needed something to do
July
2006, Berlin
©
Slava Mogutin, 1990-2006.