Dear Program/Show!
On Saturday, nearly crying,
The whole asylum
was rushing to the Television
Instead of eating, showering,
shooting up and passing out,
The whole Mental Institution
gathered at the (tv) set

Thus spoke, wringing his hands,
that windbag and tall taler
Of the helplessness of science
’fore the mysteries of bermuda

All our brains have long been shattered,
all our wrinkles  knotted up
And the madhouse management
are shooting us up a second time

Dear Editor! Maybe better do a show
about that reactor instead?
Or, how about the favorite moon tractor?
Come now, can’t for a year in a row already
Keep scaring us with saucers -
"well look now, how rudely they fly about!"
Or your dogs are barking,
or ancient ruins start to speak.

We’ve learned a thing or two, you know;
we’ve been smashing saucers all year long,
We’ve even eaten dog off them,
if the chef is to be trusted

As for the piles of meds -
we flush them down the toilet, those with any sense,
What a life! And out of nowhere - the Bermudas;
Here ya go! Don’t give me that!

We didn’t raise a ruckus -
we didn’t yet have leadership.
There’s not a lot of truly rebellious ones -
and so no leaders
But for ruses and nonsense,
we’ll counter with our own
And the enemies’ evil tricks
won’t spoil our lunches!

It was their scrawny demons
that Bermud-ied up the water,
It was all conceived by Churchill
in the 18th year

Of Explosions and of fires
we came up with stories to send to TASS 
Then rushed in the Paramedics
and affixed us firm in place

Those who were especially aggressive
were tied to the backs of bedframes
In his own foam writhed a paranoiac,
like a witcher on Sabbath:
"Untie the towels,
you infidels, and heretics,
We feel Bermudness in our Hearts
and a Bermuddie taints our soul!"

Forty souls, take turns at wailing,
 they burn white hot
That’s how disturbing
all this triangular business is!

All of them almost lost their minds,
even those who had already,
And then head Dr. Margulis
banned television

Here he is, the snake, like a lighthouse in the window,
Hiding the plug behind his back.
He gave a signal to someone, meaning,
the paramedic’ll rip the cord.
And all that was left for us was to get injected,
and to sink to the bottom of the well,
And to get lost there, at the bottom -
Like in Bermuda - forever.

But tomorrow the kids will ask,
On their daily morning visit:
"Dads, what did
these PhD candidates say?"

We’ll tell our offspring the truth,
they’re not totally uncaring:
The wonderful is right in front of us,
but it is forbidden!

And there’s Rudy "the dentist";
He’s got a Gruendig reciever .
He twists and yanks the knobs all night,
catches waves of Contras! Of West Germany!
He used to be a clothes dealer there,
and his sanity had drifted,
And came to us in acute anxiety and worry,
With indigestion and a number on his toe. 

He ran to us, acutely worried,
and stunned us with a message,
Supposedly our research vessel
in the Triangle got caught

Perished, having wasted all the fuel,
nay, disintegrated down to bits
But two of our insane brothers
got picked up by fishermen.

Those, surviving the cataclysm,
exist in pessimism
Yesterday in a Glass prism
they were shipped to our asylum.
And one of them - the mechanic -
told us, having escaped from nurses
That the Bermuda "polyhedron" -
is the planet’s exposed navel.

"What happened there? How did you survive?"
everyone nagged him.
But the mechanic just kept shaking
and lighting up Cigarette Butts

Now he cries, now he laughs,
now he prickles like a hedgehog
What a tease, he’s made a mockery of us.
Well, he’s a madman, what can you do?

Winding up, a former alcoholic,
profane and seditious, Says:
"We need to drink the triangle,
split it in three, come on!"
All excited, he keeps dropping:
"The triangle shall be drunk.
Be it a parallelepiped,
be it round... damn atomic louse!"

Painfully they beat us right in our souls
"Voices" from a thousand miles.
In vain we don’t deafen/knock out America
Oy, in vain we don’t squeeze Israel:

With all their antagonistic nature
They undermine and harm -
They feed and water us with Bermutness
About that mystical square!

Lecturers from the program
(Those, who either way
Speak of lack of luck
And agitate the people),
Take us, condemned, -
The Triangle will turn you, educated,
Back into the mindless,
And yet, us - the other way around.

It may be a mad idea,
don’t solve such things in haste!
Please write back as soon as possible
via head physician

Sincerely yours. Date, signature....
Answer, or else,
If we don’t get an answer
we shall write the lottery