A-m (umopapisdn) wrote,

Losha and I met in Russia
We lived there three months
Always cold, always eating
Potatoes, cabbage, beets, and potatoes
Kartoshka, Kartoshka, Kartoshka!
"If I never see another Potato!" I said
"Boiled, mashed or fried?" he replied

One night at Mirage we drank vodka and danced
The wind outside, cold, crying lonely moans
But it was outside, and we were not
We danced and drank and drank and danced
We were warm, we were happy, we were in love with Russia

Another night, at the only place in town to buy coffee
We sat telling crazy stories
Then Losha left, to write his name in the snow
I waited, and waited, and started to worry
The dark alley was only five steps from the door
Finally, shivering and red faced he returned
"Did you write a whole novel?" I teased
"Da, War and Piss" he confirmed

We never fell in love, at least not with each other
We lived and worked together but each day
As his English improved (and my Russian)
We knew each other less and less
Until by the time we got on the plane for Canada
I felt I hardly knew him at all

But after the deleted battle scenes
The craziness, the silenet treatments and the lying
The tricks and the deceit
All the stuff I don't want to talk about even now
Years later, there is a happy ending
Well, for Losha I mean
He's walked down the aisle, said his "I dos"
And rumours say he's emigrated, living in Canada

No more cold potato winters
No more dark alley novels
Now he can eat fries and flush with the rest of us
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