The departing ships of symbolism.

Opoiaz or society of brain`s drought.

Typical for all poets pettiness in the words, the fractional detailing, the manipulation by words, the extracting last sense of words, the manicure of words.

Suspicious, the fourth category funeral of poetry by its arrogant bunglers, or by NEP, which ate the poets.

It's pitch-dark at the russian estrades, which have been trampled down by hoofs of every sort and kind of imaginists.

Stony desert of life before verses.

And –

two.

Without the fabricated mandate for the contact with world.

Without billing of themselves.

Under the modest brand  –

the exhausting of brain.

Two.

Amidst the last poets who are not swallowed the heritage of greate revolution we are unique, we personify the billow of the new world.

Two wise men. What is the expanse!

It is exactly during the year we were with a shut mouth.

And now

the number one

is a blow to the front of the blase pseudo-poetry.

Tomorrow will are new verses, and some new theories.

This will be not the hysterical slogans of poets who in vain try to catch up with tempest (mayakovschina).

This will be not  dreary whirl of styles in poetry – the element of early NEP (pilnjachestvo – pasternakism).

This will be the calm pressure with aim to overcome the state of after-storm.

In the wailing still abyss we are the first who separate water from poetry and say:

Let will be the stage of  pan-European madness the jumping-off place for the new jump.

By spinning we will race somewhere in search of

true contact with the world.

The height:

One thousand nine twenty three (in your opinion).

The contact?

There is the contact.

Boris Pereleshin.
Moscow. Pre-january.
The ovary of the second year.
(Dialectics Today)
1923.