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Dmitry Utchitel


Krivoy Rog, UK

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Uptown Girl


Dmitry Utchitel

She is a parable, for only mouth
Of parable tells you the shaped truth.
Her speech resembles the gyre of moths.
And when she entered, there was no doubt:
Music had meant to uphold and handle
Boring boys by the lightsome table.
Did they distinguish between her smile
And guess? I'm not Horace, nor was meant to be.
But they asked: "Is it a step? a mile?"
Well, it doesn't matter for a gliding bee

Millennium L (by George Ludwig Gerder)


Dmitry Utchitel

Her telephone rang at 6.00 p.m.
The sound resembled a sort
of fiddlestick. She heard an exploding
Wave of fervent music. Roses flew
Acrss the drs and broken window
Meanwhile interjacent feelings
Awoke invocatory song.
She heard a lot of spectacular
Music beyond her ears:
Mermaids, large silent seas,
Fragrant carnations, skylarks
Of Her Majesty...

There was a path through a gritty shore,
And Someone helped her to hail
Unknown life far from sudden call



Dmitry Utchitel

They never formed to panoramic sleights.
Just one by one, I think, they were defined
By vibrant sunlight. But, consider that,
They saved inflections of this atmosphere.
Although the shell of balance is the question.
As for my part, I'd not be in a hurry
To prove their lifeless sight was not a mask