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“I will fly to that planet where there is water and oxygen”: what quatrains-pies are remembered by their creator

The genre invented by Vladislav Kungurov deeply penetrated the Internet culture.

Vladislav Kungurov. Photo from his archive
Vladislav Kungurov. Photo from his archive

Creator quatrains-pies genre Vladislav Kungurov died at the age of 46, told the administrators’ Pies + “in the community” VKontakte “. The cause of his death is not revealed.

In the spring, the community members arranged a fundraising for Kungurov for urgent surgical intervention. It was alleged that he was “almost blind” and needed to replace the lenses.

Kungurov is considered the ancestor of the genre quatrains, “pies”, which appeared in 2003. They do not contain rhymes, capital letters and punctuation marks, are written with a four-legged iambic, often have an absurd ending and can be devoted to any topic. Kungurov and his co-authors called pies “Russian hockey”. Genre became one of the few innovations in modern poetry, which became part of Internet culture.

On the Internet Kungurov created under the nickname al cogol. TJ remembered some of his works on different topics.

came to work there is no work

came to the subway and there is no metro

came home and no home

but the feeling that there is

alas I am a slave of my desires

I am a bonded person

I wanted to eat food

I had to sleep, I had to sleep

stop the Anatolia

this is the house I live in

thank you for a glorious evening

for three hundred dollars and sex

The grand piano has two pedals

the car has three

which means that in the piano

costs box automatic

there is a fish sword there is a fish saber

there are fish hammer and saw

why there is no fish friendship

and fishes smile and love

but life goes away as it goes away

a trolley bus dropped you off

and you are standing at a stop

and fingers crumple the ticket

the old lady got up early in the morning

neighbors spit in the borsch

then closed in the toilet

and began to howl the seeds of the seeds

an unemployed angel flies

above the coffin with the girl inside

she was his work

and on it he was late

the poet Vladimir Mayakovsky

that not for money was born

was really for the money

born but carefully concealed

there are shops for the military

shoulder straps uniform camouflage

and soon will be for civilians

participants of civil wars

entered the depths of the ocean

a man in a dress and socks

sunset has seen and not such

and rolled without problems

I’ll go to the store for vodka

and there I will see a friend suddenly

and pretending that I am for bread

blushing in the queue

and it’s stupid to talk about God

when such a beauty

and we almost do not breathe

and stupidly look through the telescope

I find it quite easy

go to the plague go to the zuma

in the ashram to the hospital in the synagogue

and raise your eyes there

Today I had a dream air

I breathed it and it was so

that when I woke up I thought

that I was dead and lying in a coffin

I’ll fly to that planet

where there is water and oxygen

where there are trees and blueberries

and there is neither vodka nor people

In comments to the record about the death of Kungurov, the subscribers of the community “Pies” began to compose their own quatrains in memory of the creator of the genre.

here died Vladislav Kungurov

but the memory is good about him

will remain forever with us

in the filling of new pies

Andrey Chechetkin

I did not like to read not prose

until he met the patties

I thank you very much

how good that rhyme is not

Victor Tarasov

no wonder the rain poured out today

some gray sticky sadness

St. Petersburg mourns the guys

and not only St. Petersburg

Alexey Fedyunin
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