*Just to clarify for this assignment we had to follow a guideline (20 specific things that we had to incorporate into our poem) so if it seems a little funky that's why. Anyway, enjoy!*
Red Russia
Brandon Lazovic
Some days seem to me strange, almost a dream
They fade into memory like the Holocaust
Yet are always there, bursting at the seams
Visions cross of Putin addressing Moscow like Faust
As the Ruski’s march down Red Square
They shout Smert'
vsem, chto protivopostavit nam (Death to all that oppose us)!
The guns in
their hand quiet and controlled
I float
above, awaiting their next move
A man named
Laz stands amongst them yet alone
A future
leader, waiting to pursue the truth
His red
handgun holstered, waiting to speak
As it screams
in the cities with a silencer
He crosses
himself, muttering Pust' Bog miloserdiya (may God have mercy) under his breath
The gun whispers to him to continue
on without fear
He continues on with his gun, without
hesitation, causing death
His house is warm, the taste of
bourbon heats his insides
He thinks to himself, Bary derutsya - u kholopov chuby treshchat (when the rich make war it’s
the poor that die).
The golden bourbon clouds his thoughts
He imagines his wife, young and beautiful
The touch of her skin is delicate
He smells her perfume, his love for her infinite
Shots are fired in the distance
He could taste death on her lips, she was listless
He stood there as the snow fell, flaked with red stains
The Red of Russia.
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