... A sad and happy idea came to the forties - to go together on a legendary train to the unforgettable Petushki, to read excerpts from the poem, to remember the author, to read verses, words, maybe what to say and perform other ritual actions.
At one hour, an exotic group of people in a post pulled up to the Kursk station. Here were Venin friends, as well as poets with an arrogant smile, artists of unknown studios, painters from picturesque cellars. In short, the ignorance of who.
Matyugalnik was given immediately. Erofeevsky authority was absolute. And on the stretch "Sickle and Hammer - Karacharovo" I then opened the First Erofeev readings in the train car (and immediately drank).
All the way to Petushkov, poems and fragments of the poem corresponding to the stretch were read in the passing matugalnik, folk tales, legends and myths about Venichka were told...
So we were approaching our destination. in the squalor at Petushka station, a touching collective photo was taken. Against the background of a skinny obelisk - exactly the same as in all squares at all stations. But on the very top, where usually a bump, an asterisk or completely empty... a small-small bust of Lenin.
A year later, too, no one previously planned anything, did not cook. But by May, somehow it became clear that the Erofeev readings in the train should be repeated.
However, as the ancients rightly noticed, you cannot twice enter the same train. Everything's changed. Last year's matyugalnik this time left for Russia to campaign for Yeltsin, and the familiar demfunctionary, the owner of the matyugalnik, went to the States to study us from there.
Meanwhile, the perestroika press already fancifully and inaccurately reported about the upcoming readings, and three cargroups were on duty on platform No. 5 in the morning... Filmmakers did business and unceremoniously pulled wires, poets and artists crumbled in the corners of the car. I didn't want to go. We didn't go.
And as soon as the doors of the car slammed behind the last TV show that did not understand anything, we lit candles on the edge of the platform and, counting exactly four minutes of silence away from the cherished stretch, repeated last year's ritual.
This time, the vessels were decorated with textbook quotes. In particular, we read on the scum: I believe that the post of president should be taken by a person who does not have a hangover in three days. And are there among us?..
Poets and members of their families, as well as those who joined the late ones on the memorial train, moved around Moscow, trying to cross the Garden Ring.
Where to? Of course, in search of the Kremlin.
On the way, in one of the lanes near Chistye Ponds, with the sympathetic presence of the natives of the meandered entrance, with whom Irtenyev courageously entered into negotiations, a memorial plaque of white noble foam was opened:
AT THIS UNKNOWN ENTRANCE
ON THE FORTIETH STEP
SPENT A SHAMEFUL TIME
IN THE LIFE OF ITS PEOPLE
WRITER VENEDICT EROFEEV,
which at the end of the ceremony was closed and now is not known where.
Meanwhile, among all the ups/downs, the group, I would even say, chose a bench on the boulevard, where the most Alternative Erofeev readings took place.
Bunimovich E.A. Daily/Evgeny Bunimovich. - M.: ОГИ,2006. - 288 p.
