Bullet in My Face

My face hurts
my head does too
I do not know
what I should do.
There’s a slaughterhouse in my head
and when I’m going to bed
I see the light that is a’ fret
It runs as fast as a deer
it can turn up like a beer
but in the end I cannot peer
unto the final word I long to hear.

By Levan Asatiani

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A Little Story

After 4 days of being plagued by dreams of a farmer putting a
firebrand on my back, I finally slept like a little baby. Next morning
after arriving at the crime scene of a homicide, I did all the
customary procedures, but couldn’t help but notice the unscathed body
of the victim. This was quite unusual, because usually, I had the
evidence of death available right there, laying on the floor. The
victim was the president, or that’s what they called him. Continue reading