In the palm of hid beetle

In the palm hid the beetle, its head
Leaned out to the very fire.
I dreamed that I saved you, and deftly
Folding the sheet into a knot
Threw away cotton wool and medicines,
Which could be, but no -
Death has no permanence.,
Just an indifferent red light.
You again something confused going to hear live,
Gone where-that is - the taxi driver said -
And feet on the ground pushing,
Inhaled the air like a maple leaf.
While I was thinking - where the relatives of the children,
How best to explain and drive -
There was somewhere you are in the world,
I counted from one to ten.
Now I catch bugs, I save oysters.
And those that are in reality, and that outside.
And banks, what would thought woke up,
I'm talking to them alone.