Wednesday, December 2

balaclava II

art deco on the roof
whilst wind blows through the beard
of homeless harry.

one german backpacker smokes sloppily
whilst his coffee cools.
i called it Red Terror
(you called it ironic)

the clutched bags and closed minds
eyes darting gossip of
out and insiders
fails to keep us warm at night.

we toss and turn over
3000 years of maltreatment. what Figes
said was right;
we are all, social, historians, now.

regardless, the bolsheviks were unable to
transform themselves from the underground
to the legitimate

so we too hide in doorways and under beds.

the trust that They profess - the unharmed and the young and the outsides looking in - doesn't soothe us.
these habits are hard to give up.

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