A Line Is A Fuse

My Verse Has Brought Me No Roubles To Spare: No Craftsmen Have Made Mahogany Chairs For My House.

Were I As Quiet As Thunder, How I'd Wail And Whine! One Groan Of Mine Would Start The World's Crumbling Cloister Shivering. And If I'd End Up By Roaring With All Of Its Power Of Lungs And More - The Comets, Distressed, Would Wring Their Hands And From The Sky's Roof Leap In A Fever.

Listen! If Stars Are Lit It Means There Is Someone Who Needs It, It Means Someone Wants Them To Be, That Someone Deems Those Specks Of Spit Magnificent!

But I, From Poetry's Skies, Plunge Into Communism, Because Without It I Feel No Love.

Gentle Souls! You Play Your Love On The Violin. The Crude Ones Play It On The Drums Violently. But Can You Turn Yourselves Inside Out, Like Me And Become Just Two Lips Entirely?