I want a Russian winter, a nuclear holocaust of radioactive sand dunes and bitter clouds of orange frost, I want to sit and watch the lazy, gray Baltic waves lacquer the whored-out horizon, sun-kiss the entire world, glasses off, each pink nipple and light thatch of pubic hair, microwave our sleek screens and lightly-touched devices, our black eyes, I want to see each drone malfunction and go berserk, the artificial synths and hyper-aggressive vending machines in Japan to give birth to the filthy toys inside, rubber cocks for a perverted paradise of freaks, I want the slimy buoys to appear on the water, the humming blue demons of children drowned by their mothers, a strangle-vine embracing the park bench, the stench of rubbish among the littered bodies of the murdered Mordovian-Moksha, the Tambov Oblast massacre, fingers scrape the skeletons, big size, small size, round and round, holy Russia ends the world.