I ask you, Flapper, did you pause your dance
even if just for a passing moment just to be sad
to learn of that final, fatal circumstance---
the murder of Metropolitan Benjamin of Petrograd?
And what of you, Comrade Lenin? (Of course
we will ask you, Commisar of the balding, bulbous head);
and you, Krupskaya, with that face of a horse:
did both of you rejpoice that the martryed bishop was dead?
You, Comrade, lay in a most ornate tomb;
while the martryed bishop has only a cenotaph.
But God and History will judge: do not presume
that the vanguard Party will survive to a last laugh.
Lenin, you incestuous churl, who ravished and ravaged the Motherland;
are you ready, Comrade, with the explanation that Christ will demand?
Starward
[*/+/^]