A Cloud in Trousers

vladimir mayakovsky
“Your thoughts,

dreaming on a softened brain,

like an over-fed lackey on a greasy settee,

with my heart’s bloody tatters I’ll mock again;

impudent and caustic, I’ll jeer to superfluity.

Of Grandfatherly gentleness I’m devoid,
 
there’s not a single grey hair in my soul!

Thundering the world with the might of my voice,

I go by – handsome,

twenty-two-year-old.”
 

– Vladimir Mayakovsky
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