It’s a Russian skill,
I know how to drink transcendentally,
meditating at the altar of “fuck it”.
Tonight, though, the zakuska does not respect me
and my reflection in the wardrobe mirror
will not drink my health, she worries bless her,
so soobrazit na troyh didn’t quite work out.
Blyn malaya, go to sleep
At a Chicago hotel after midnight, not
a good place to get your Russian on …
and besides there’s things you can’t transcend
with alcohol ( a shock I know).
So remember a lovely American skill –
To smile even in the middle of total pizdets
It might come in handy tomorrow
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