two poems
by Mykyta Ryzhykh
When I buried
When I buried you there was no more sky left
When I buried you the dogs and cats stopped shedding
When I buried you the bushes broke their arms
When I buried you I didn't tell your mother about it
When I buried you the huge bird knocked on the cage of my apartment with its beak
When I buried you a hill grew before my cemetery eyes
When I buried you all the flowers they ended
When I buried you the oceans didn't move however
When I buried you it didn't rain and nothing changed
When I buried you I realized that you still hear and even breathe
I had to quietly and squat down to your bed and finish you off while
You were waiting for some soldier to come home from the war
*there are no men left in your village*
I knew that you wouldn't wait for anyone and buried you decorating with berries and silence
And when I buried you no one said anything
What happens during an air raid siren
He moistened my anus with saliva and the light outside went out. The sky and electric poles know perfectly well when it is time for them to collapse and crush the naked bloodied people with their chests pressed against the guns. He takes his cock out of his underpants and sparks fly because the scream cannot be hidden. And I'm screaming like I'm dead. And he screams like a crucified. And we scream as if the Magi did not see the stars in the sky. We silently believe in a miracle like birds slaughtered for the sake of the Christmas table. We sing near the broken table. He tells me to suck his cock deeply because his cock is supposedly huge. I do not argue in comparison with my indifference, everything in this world seems huge. All I need is airy bread and cum on my lips. I am not interested in the tasks of historians and social benefits. I'm at the bottom. We are at the bottom. He slowly inserts his cock into my anus. The god who hovers in his own absence inserts an iron crossbar into the excited member and pours the seed into the scrotum. A God who cannot imagine human life knows perfectly well that nothing will happen after our fucking because I don't even have a vagina or ovaries. Nobody knows anything. My belly is empty. The light is on. Light inside. Inside the gut. Inside the belly. Inside the heart. Inside an indeterminate organ of the body. Fuck me like your faithful dog, God. Strangle me during orgasm God. The last candle in the sounds of minutes is burning for you, Lord. A candle burns in memory of you, Lord. He cums in my ass like an ancient greek hero descended from the pages of a historical atlas. The temple of the naked body is erected much better and the orgasm comes faster during the announced air raid.
Photo of Mykyta Ryzhykh
BIO: Mykyta Ryzhykh, an author from Ukraine, now lives in Tromsø, Norway. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2023 and 2024. He’s published in many literary magazines іn Ukrainian and English: Tipton Poetry Journal, Stone Poetry Journal, Neologism Poetry Journal, Shot Glass Journal, QLRS, The Crank, Chronogram, The Antonym, Monterey Poetry Review, Five Fleas Itchy Poetry and many others.