All night some finches have disgraced themselves

by singing their desires through my open window;

I suggest we abolish the tree they’re living in.

I have no desire to write about Laika, nor

the greyscale picture of the world she glimpsed

for five hours from a window, which, regrettably

was not left open. I want to write about the brave

& red-haired fox, the little bee, the starlet,

the coal, & the light breeze. I want to write

about Bobik, or the untamed substitute thereof

who ran like a joke around the barracks.

They who were subject to the same diet

of laxatives & jellied protein. It didn’t help

that they were all, in temperament, phlegmatic,

& therefore Cancers, or Scorpios, or Pisces, though

the circumstances of their births went unrecorded

in the streets. Their mothers were abolished

because no-one & themselves desired otherwise.

They had seen some stuff & so Oleg Gazenko

thought they could bear to see some more.

I desire to abolish all desires & live

like a monk, divorced from the world.

I desire to be less sublunary. The secret

of their deaths was kept long past the abolition

of the state they died in service of.

It’s hard to think Oleg Gazenko was a person

& desired. In 1998, he spoke

of this again; he said, ‘we did not learn enough’.