I laugh at art, and I laugh at people
Laugh at Greek temples, laugh at songs and poems
Mock the swirling tower of the church, which stands tall in the vast sky
I looked at the good guys and the bad guys with the same eyes
By Verlaine
Tolstoy's imagination
My myopia is close to four digits
Most likely, you can't see the mountains opposite
I had to think about it
It even felt unusually like the snow had melted
Spring is passing by
A mirror image of a vanishing world
Debauchery, like some sad dancer
I don't know what Tolstoy did when he was young
It seems that the whole meaning is a confession
As for the curse, the candle was lit
At six o'clock in the morning the garbage truck woke up to sleep
Crow 2000
They cover the sky
In fact, it has little to do with the city
I narrowed my eyes occasionally
Staring at the pigeons dissolves into nothingness
Often it's blue skies
Always as you think
The gods who bless the journey
Likes to ride on the wall of other people's homes
Probably just a butterfly
Shuttle back and forth, touching the sunset
Lost every day
I slipped gently into the darkness
Once at a time
Woman's swollen waist
A reflection similar to a glass window
How distant it was, I had to get straight to the point
I read Sartre and Nabokov
Suppose it was dark
That must be because of the color of the curtain
About the hidden treasures of men
Their attitude towards life
Definitely a bit subtle
In other words, you will tell me
The artist has just created a piece
Mysterious inscription
The only difference is powerlessness
Late July is approaching
It is just that there is no longer any resistance to some of the passing
I can be alone in silence
Heartbeat echoes between the mountains
Countless moonlights were dried
Prussian blue and Morandi gray
My gluttonous eyes
Stare at the dinner plate
There is love that I already know the truth
Unless you are always silent
Illustration: Work by eithne Jordan