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’.