behavior modeling…

the brown bag prophet
cocooned
in a soviet army
winter bekesha
fur coat
much like
putin’s
minus
putin’s
thigh hugging boots
mumbled
from beneath
his layers
that
if all criminals
are
judged
by
the same
standards of behavior
as
the white house
then
the crime rate
in
the nation
is going
to have
a dramatic drop
since
most thugs
and
gangsters
are
going to get
one of those
get out of jail free cards
from
most juries

crimean war…

crimean war

cold
north winds
wrapped
in scarlet clouds
foretell
that they
shall come again
grave diggers
seizing plots
of land
to bury
the bodies
beside those
who fell
so many
years ago
spring
softens
the frozen black sea soil
muffling the sounds
of boots
boots like
funeral drums
fill the night air
as tear draped coffins
make their way
again
to forgotten mass graves
where
names
matter not
nor
it would seem
the reason
the dead
begin
to lament

sochi nightmare…

sochi nightmare

i roused
the brown bag prophet
who was moaning
and
groaning
on a park bench
i feared
he would
fall
and
injury himself
he said
oh my
i was dreaming
of cossacks
in brightly colored tutus
horse-whipped by
dead stray dog tails
while putin
gyrating his hips
like elvis
sang
born in the ussr
and i saw
olympic coins
at his feet
rust into dust
when tossed
by women
wearing
blooded ski masks
those ladies
seemed
to be singing
a modern version
of
give peace a chance
damn
that’s the last time
i drink
in a bar
called
freedom

don’t cry for me…

 

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

 

aunt bea
looking
at the wsj
saw
a picture
of putin
tears flowing
she
suddenly
gasped
and
said
things in russia
are worse
than i thought
the stench
of politics
has even
got
him
crying