They weep, perennial;
Death has rent souls as the lord of the land of aspiration,
Acts, but in their comedies they betray tragic scenes
Burning with acid laughter
At the opiates they ply--as though insults toward
Once holy sky.
And their language, the flat syntax-as some sin tax--of
Russian-English
The mouthings dripping with crowing sneering topped by
Shaved heads or the pompidou of 1950's neo-Stalinistas,
Too cool heat.
Electro-Klepto tapping out on Cyrillic keys... into Western crypto
Miming ancient Joseph's counseling safekeeping pharaonic
crypt of grain
But for agnostic gain?
Robbed they but nested doll's eyes 'til blind,
The last Matryoshka perishes for lack of lachrymose, unkind.
