Hops yes malt, Tralee-vali …

Night. Winter. Frozen cat
And probably cats.
Sgololedilis track.
I see: you.

You go, wrinkles knitting,
Irritation is not melting,
On the lips froze storm
Next: I am.

Howling wind blows the roof,
He is probably wrong.
In cats in the stomachs of mice
No condiments.

Optimism for some reason melts
How - a drop of hot - wax.
Well, what do we need?
Suddenly: a kiosk.

And in the kiosk - a miracle –
(No money - try to touch)
As phantom - out of nowhere:
Obolon.

Hops yes malt, Tralee-Wali
In general - yes pour drink.
(If only it was poured
Hurry).

Right - the nose Zaderei above
The lights are burning pupils …
Eaten mouse
Peacefully sleeping.

In general, beer reconciled
I saved the tears and fights
Not one pig snouts
And nickle.

P.S. My poem is not virtuoso
No claims for a medal.
(Maybe it would be better in prose
As Stendhal?).

If you can - drink beer.
If you want to - drink kvas.
If only life was beautiful!
(Like us …).

21 April 2007 | cat, cat, hops, kiosk, malt, mouse, night, trawl val, winter

Friday!
This theater will show comedy about dentistry

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Cup of vodka, added in an opened bottle of champagne, quickly gave the desired effect: the young ladies began to shine his eyes and burning cheeks.
• On the history of Beer »»»
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We will be in a particularly generous and attentive, let’s start with Capricorn.