Nikitin

(from Epitaphs)



Old Nikitin, simply Nikitin,
had no other name.

Perhaps he lost it
when tipsy –
slipped out of it like it was
an old pair of trousers.

Though God knows,
we really did try,
Vlady and I together, carrying him,
slipping on the snow;

like ants around a caterpillar,
our effort. We stopped for breath,
pushed him back into his patched jacket.

But we didn’t guard him well enough.
He still managed to slip out
and fly

above his underground boiler-room,
above his heavenly pub.

NIKITIN