Ashok Niyogi
Colors crackling across the sky
Murmansk in the snow
Piled high.
My ship in the harbor
Incurring wharfage
And a customs guy
Talking about a whore with twenty cats
Why?
Awesome
The light across the heavens
Beyond the Krushchovsky flats
Piled layer on layer
In the snow
Live.
Sledge your children
Walk your dog
The Vodka and the logā,
The Kalbasa and the cats
Rats.
I never saw Murmansk in the day,
And when I came back to Petersburg,
A Ukranian would tell me why
Murmansk is dark;
North.