you think i'm empty.
a broken code.
a *****, a waste
of human skin.
you say,
i'm too pretty
to be like this.

this isn't a choice.

i feel too much
for there to be space
for what you call
lust.

you don't need an apology.
no one does.
my brain is not a crime scene
for you to investigate,
neither is my heart.
you may think me cold
but you've never seen
the bonfire,
always kindling,
for the ones i keep close.

my boyfriend blocks me for four days
because I won’t give him the chair he wants.
I’m left scrolling through IKEA listings,
pretending the algorithm knows my waiting.

outside, neighbors drag out plastic stools
for another birthday party. balloons
tied to the wrong wrist, a dog howling
like it knows who gets the last seat.

on day three, I start naming the chairs
in my apartment: recliner as prophet,
barstool as witness. I kneel before
the ottoman, bargaining like a priest.

when he unblocks me, it feels
less like forgiveness, more like return policy:
no receipt, box dented, parts missing.
we drag it inside together, silent, already exhausted.

what I wanted to say was:
I would’ve sat on the floor
if it meant staying.

I wasn't made for something casual,
I need the undying love,
Of my beloved.
I need it to be never ending,
For it to cconstantly consume me.
I need it to eat me out,
To drown me in.
And **** out my soul
From within.

Малышка со вкусом монархии
Разбиралась в азах иерархии,
Возрождала меня птицей Феникс,
И эректо ХаИм лайк Пенис.
Тут гляссе и фрейлины-опачки,
Короную твою хуепопочку —
Ты стань раком и выгни бля талию,
Я в окно загоняю Италию.

Yaroslav Kulikovsky. Berlin, 2019 (c).
Part of the cycle: Poems on City Flesh and Power.

👉 tiktok.com/@kulikovskyonthepunchline
👉 youtube.com/@KulikovskyOnThePunchline/shorts

Фила Текила мастер тату
Соло строчила свою ерунду:
Эники-беники, сэки-парсэки,
Разные гадости и гомосэки.
И языкатая, и сексмашинка,
И Пеппилотта, и суперпружинка —
Длинный чулок натянул и погнал:
Травести кончил, финал.

Yaroslav Kulikovsky. Berlin, 2023 (c).
Part of the cycle: Poems on City Flesh and Power.

👉 tiktok.com/@kulikovskyonthepunchline
👉 youtube.com/@KulikovskyOnThePunchline/shorts

На Монтенаполеоне недавно
Покупал себе я гандоны,
И встретил одну очень славную —
Принцессу Куни в пионах.
Сударыня, Вам в Кандолизиум,
Давай в лепестки, не стесняйся,
Изысканно гни изваяния,
Язык тренируй, распускайся.

Yaroslav Kulikovsky. Paris, 2023 (c).
Part of the cycle: Poems on City Flesh and Power.

👉 tiktok.com/@kulikovskyonthepunchline
👉 youtube.com/@KulikovskyOnThePunchline/shorts

Пук-пук и Клац-клац покупали футболки —
Один купил с гайкой, другой с болтом.
И, облачившись в экипировки,
Взвинтились до неба — такой вот дурдом!
Один был валЕтом пиздато-придворным,
Другой пиздоватым, но тоже вальтом —
И вот, закрутившись потуже в кладовке,
Шмальнули дуэтом — и в гастроном.

Yaroslav Kulikovsky. Vienna, 2023 (c).
Part of the cycle: Poems on City Flesh and Power.

👉 tiktok.com/@kulikovskyonthepunchline
👉 youtube.com/@KulikovskyOnThePunchline/shorts

Кардиган и Коверкот
Гладили малыху в рот.
Лапсердак сидел, вопил,
Смаковал кайфовый чил.
Гройсе Гликовая Шикс
Пожирала жадно Твикс,
Согревала и строчила
Леопардовая Сила.

Yaroslav Kulikovsky. Paris, 2021 (c).
Part of the cycle: Poems on City Flesh and Power.

👉 tiktok.com/@kulikovskyonthepunchline
👉 youtube.com/@KulikovskyOnThePunchline/shorts

i load into the world, ready to
do as the title of the game says: mine and craft,
he joins. dread mixed with love ensues

time goes by, we level up,
wood to stone, stone to iron
making a plan for our little abode

with cows, sheep, and 2 cats,
just as i begin to fantasise,
he leaves the game

the chatbox rings out
Achievement get: DIAMONDS!
and it was all in vain