The Poetry of
Michael G. Khmelnitsky

the walls at the station
are full of coloured tiles
coloured tiles

and the tiles are full of
small cracks small cracks
and the cracks are all full of

dirt  dirt  
and that is the
end of my cosmology


the rails are full of trains
full of trains  and the trains
are lit  lit

and the trains are full of
people  peo
ple full of thoughts  and their

thoughts are full of people
and that is the
end of my cosmology


and the thoughts of the peo
ple on the train
the thoughts of the people on

the train are full of shit
the people on
the train are full of shit

and the thoughts  of the
people on the street are full
of shit  full


of rot  and the hands of
three people on the train
are not  and

that is the end of my
cosmology