Skoya Poem by Atef Ayadi

she said:
am russian, and my name is nastya.
i said in russian:
yay Iisus!
her eyes crossed,
clock wise
the then became fixated again,
then, a fast sweeping left to right,
right to left,
to come back to normal.
a universe gazing at another universe!
it was night, chilly cold.
in farenhate, it could be anything!
she added, my dad call me satya,
and my brother call me
tatya!
his girlfireind mae is tatlissyana
i said, i play scrabble sometime;
but i wont add another name today.
i added
(while stroking her hair
for sometime,
and scratching her head
for another wavy navy movie moment :)
is russian beer organic
or just another idaho potato like drink
or homestead soup?
she said the best beer in
russia is
a klinskoya,
plus three spoon of vodka,
plus two glass of potator water to make two bottles.
we call it, klin nedo-pere-piol skoya!
i said can we make it,
herein, in our local time,
chill and a cold chin may need a
spark?
potatoes need fire,
and fire is sokoya.
hope you like stars, constellations, and camping
in the twilight zones?
da!
da!
spassibeau!
the rest is not for rating!
you know?