March 28th by ANTON POLUNIN

yesterday I saw a ripped out dick

on a screenshot

dusted with dry earth

all alone in an open field

among human tatters

I saw a strip of face

a good few legs

and also how they were taking the scalp

off a man, still alive

this was in a rather brutal western

called scalps 

an example of honest and informative naming 

there was a scene

where they pierced a dude’s nipples 

with hooks

then tied one end of a rope to these hooks

and the other to a horse

and let it run into the desert 

then facebook deleted one of my texts


the word combination





did not seem militant enough 

to facebook

in these harsh times

what to do

war is war

dick ripped off for one

text deleted for another

everyone keeps the score

of their individual losses

their own personal blacklist

for future reconstruction and revenge

right now on my list 

there’s nothing of note

no wounds

not even any decent psychological trauma

though actually, today at the corner store, they ran out of vanilla doughnuts and I had to buy chocolate

nothing to be done about that, that’s war

the moskali can’t be envied at all

no sugar

no pads

president’s a dickhead

and the rest of them too



evenly blankets

fertile Ukrainian fields

still, the tribunal is soon

you can live in a clean cell

go to a toilet that isn’t outdoors

no bears

the Native Americans believed 

that the souls of the deceased 

continue to live in their hair

hence the theme with scalps

and burning books

the women of Carthage 

donated their braids 

to the armed forces

and I myself

haven’t cut my hair since the start of the war,

so that the soul doesn’t have to cram

itself into a lame undercut, 

if, say, suddenly, 

something I need gets ripped off 

or facebook

deletes another text