Mayakovsky in Parkland

mayakovsky in parklandThe morose poet Mayakovsky sits down next to her, and right from the beginning so that she cannot mistake his intentions, says:
—I do not exist.

Ok, she can cope with that.
—But you’ll have an orange juice… or a coffee, won’t you? You look like you need something.
The magic hour. He watches the bumbling carp in the dark green, ornamental, artificial pond. The moths hitting the surface tension.
He notices the sun’s oblique ray and shifts himself slightly, such that it now comes in over his left ear — more raffish — although, as he and the woman are on the same bench, identically facing, the effect is rather lost.
—You know what I’m going to bring you, don’t you, says Mayakovsky, after he has watched enough. What my message is.

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Mayakovsky in Parkland by Hannah Shilling is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.