Report with a Bush on his neck
& nbsp; Well, that already 02.01.20-when they wanted, then salute. You can't serve all the fireworks in one dish. When separately-longer remembered, better visible details and there is something to compare.
& nbsp; Here and today there was an occasion for comparison. Artistic, of course. Poetic, of course. Extraordinary, as all Pagkalinawan. And heroic, because to turn the celebration into a work can only heroes Pagkalinga:)
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; and now imagine LG, who had to meet NG in a circle of vegetarians. Here is about this and will reportage in poems and remarks in prose.
& nbsp; the Theater began with a hanger, where our LG did not find fur coats made of natural fur and shoes made of genuine leather. There was no sound of meat from the kitchen on the right, no fish from the bathroom on the left, and there was no Olivier salad in the room directly ahead. Our LG shuddered inwardly, but continued to survey the table in the hope of consoling his gaze with a slice of carbonate, smoked ribs, or jelly, at least. Alas.
& nbsp; and then an involuntary desire for revenge was kindled in him. In verses. Certainly in white. Because the rat is white. Or simply not until rhymes, when such. Without Olivier...
But at least herring under a fur coat should be or what?..
Found, perched, but...
Monologue coats-Cheetah girls:
Traitor-herring... with her more than once
merged in mayonnaise ecstasy,
and suddenly lay down on the dish naked,
shamelessly surrendering to greedy eyes…
Gathering in an armful of beets, onions, carrots,
with a potato on one side I'll go to the neighbor!
Salted vinaigrette cucumber
nicer than a rusty and bony bitch.
& nbsp; No luck with the herring, so can be lucky with a neighbor at the feast? This Madame at the dish with bananas is very appetizing...
Fantasy on a banana:
The excitement, joy, Samba, carnival,
mulatto women in feathers, Breasts, thighs, lips –
dreamed neighbor passion surge
among the feast of a boring party:
banana wine or wine…
Impatiently tearing off the peel,
like someone's obviously extra clothes,
she tasted the fruit of her fantasies…
& nbsp; Our LG sharpened in a sense of disappointment and mentally continued to put mines of sarcasm, now in a row under all vegetable dishes. Coconut did not escape the fate - but there was nothing to provoke!
Coconut's mission is doable:
Gift for empty heads, coconut,
looks slyly from the top of a palm tree.
Exotic! - tourist in a drunken passion:
strong, shakes, and the mind is no longer needed...
Oh, sweet moment of flight!.. Oh, primerchik
Newtonian, true at all latitudes!
Softly "smack" - style "a La coconut".
What about the nut? - intact, ready for export.
& nbsp; and suddenly our LG, completely sober at this moment and in his right mind, heard a quiet cry coming from... dishes with strawberries! Making a discount on the miracle of New year's eve, he even wrote on a napkin heard.
Solo thawed strawberries:
The ice captivity is over and on the table,
on kitchen, with all sorts of rubbish,
I, strawberry, was thrown mercilessly.
And the kiss? And where is Prince charming?
Dry biscuit Tyrolean kneading
at the end of this affair ... I lie down and cry.
Farewell to the dream! - jelly with champagne, cakes,
glamour and cream... life is a failure…
& nbsp; Our LG was ready to cry with strawberry, but then he was distracted by an optimistic voice from a modest plate opposite:
Summary of unsightly persimmon:
Away from the luxury of fruit –
the crystal vase of the eternal occupiers –
on a saucer roughen the skin
brown balls... They don't
no lush hips pears, no orange
no arrogance, no super-Apple Shine...
But the paradox: behind a modest shell
nectar of the gods - do not hesitate, join!
& nbsp; How could I refuse to join! Well, Yes, nothing like that. But the clock was inexorably approaching midnight, and our LG traditionally felt the pull of the Christmas tree and the moment of making wishes. But he was waiting for him there, too... a surprise is not a surprise, but Someone appropriate to the moment.
Find each other:)
The new year happens to be garbage:
milk sours, keys are out…
it's like a Ghost-mischief
reminds: I want a holiday.
Do not worry in vain-the clock is striking,
under the tree on a tray of loss
with a hint from shaggy: sorry
the scoundrel-he, too, is waiting for love.
& nbsp; Apparently, this was the final chord of the new year's cultural program for our LG. Secretly hoping that he was not the only one, and in a big city there is at least one point of issuing Shawarma with hot sauce, the failed vegetarian left the owners in English and went out in the morning. A dot glowed orange in the fresh snow...
Frosty day. Lying in the snow
from the holiday escaped Mandarin…
He suddenly reminded me of the Sukhumi auction
fifty years ago ... we're walking down a row –
father and I-admiring the gloss
orange, slightly flattened fruit.
And for a kilo – fourteen kopecks,
for the gentle, new year's fragrance…
Happy New year, dear readers!
Reporting was conducted by Alexander Nosachev (in verse) and Nora Leo (in prose).
All beaver and creative activity!))
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