Poem with musical impossibility |
INSTEAD OF PERFORMANCE (attempt to say truth about what you will never know at the concert) Dear Friends! Those who I never knew, And I would spit on you... But there is formality of greetings: "Dear Frineds". This stage was built, by the way, During the time of crisis wave With cheap material, so unstable... To fail the concert just by standing Would be so easy way... To fall through the hole Of underground... Before Starting to play... Crisis... Motherfu... Hey... Musical notes are Forgotten for a long time. Old-fashioned survival Was thrown out. Hieroglyphes's origination Instead of classical "presto" Without adoration To historical context. Flourishes on empty space, In one place, Trace... Musician is contemporary Virtuosic monkey Who utters sounds Obscene of his defects Without taking out His hands With garbage from his pockets. Bravo to the music Which was squeezed biologicly Into technology, And public confuses Me, perforner, With visit To dantist... Ah!. Critics fall into nothingness. They write something useless... Have a hot discussions, Judge, regret, quote, bleat... All about What is not in this music. Always about What is not there... And for this case I got my education? The form of consciousness Of abandoned elite... In order to make For your eyes clown faces, Playing on the instrument Computer mouse click? To hold on what majority Doesn't need With enthusiasm of self-forgetfulness. To hit my cheast About cultural decadance And spiritual ardour abcence... At the same time To gnaw chicken's bone With beast's appetite... But the truth is such a thing... Which is not there... May be, I just want to eat, And for asking food I came... Crisis on the street... Give me bread... |