“Lie detector”
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The lie detector couldn№t handle it.
Changing colors, in the range of running signals,
It grunted a couple of times, let out a thin flow of smoke
which formed a column topped with a curl. Jerked.
And successfully gave up the ghost, having marked this event
With the foul stink of a newly baked metro station.
 
 
     "Yuck! You are really such utter...
I am the Truth in the first instance " - said The Plus, -
- "It is a close shave to where the conscience is,
but a little bit to the left and probably... a bit upwards".
He was obviously playing a role he№d seen somewhere;
he dropped his pretty eyes down,
And, pretending to be clumsy, he rubbed the patch of the floor in front of
him
with his toe tightened in kapron.
"Here!" ­ his childish tone presented an obvious contrast to the nails
Hammered into a bald skull thus forming
a radiant nimbus "a la the Statue of Liberty"
Not less than a bloody hundred kitchen knives were tightly packed into a
bunch
With their wooden handles together creating the impression of fluffy wings.
He intercepted my gaze and straightened, his wings tinkling,
Weaving his hand in a pointed manner.
Instead of a torch he had a heavy bazooka in his hand.
"Oh Lord...! Oh No, not like this! I said No weapons! "
The only ear decorating his head turned crimson.
His eyebrows met in anger and guilt.
and an "avaricious manly tear" ran down his cheek -
- the favourite toy was taken away.
 
Then a cunning spark flashed in his eyes
and in the split of an eyewink his scary frightening weapon
transformed into a fluffy dandelion.
"Madam. This is for you... " - announced The Plus without breaking the game.
"Thank you Sir" - the game I approved: "An easy-minded chamomile would fit
better.
A dandelion
Kicks in deep reflections".
"I see no reasons!" - The Plus took the pose of Rodin's Thinking Man
and the warmth of newly cast bronze radiated from him.
 
 
"This Thinker of Rodin is so co-o-oold... " -
- I caught the butterfly of somebody's reflection that came from a far
distance
and then I plunged into myself.
 
Sleep is Sacred business.
 
 
The Plus and The Minus were peacefully asleep, all their limbs tangled
together.
The snowstorm was howling behind the windows.
With care I covered them with something soft and fluffy.
For a second their consonant snoring intensified,
then one of them farted, and both sank into a silent serene dream.
 
The smell of new-mown grass hit my nose.
 
"Seems like somebody dreams about Summer".
 
 
 
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Micha Maslennikov
11.12.1998
Translation by
Yana Tsoy & Steven Brayshaw.
2005.