Friday, August 08, 2014

Truth is a Stranger (Alisa in Wonder-Land)

We waltz in on a sweltering afternoon,
and linger in the nine cave-like sanctuaries
that rise as flames at the edge of Red Square,
in the cathedral of St. Basil the Blessed.

I buy my aquamarine-eyed daughter a ring,
soft silver inscribed with an ancient text:
spasi i sokhrani,* the very same hung
on the chests of soldier-boys in August, 1914.

We meet a girl on a playground swing.
Alisa, to and fro, in a perfect blue pinafore;
before we knew it, she's slipped off the ring,
and it's on her finger. I tell her, Give it back.

Alisa owns an Ayn Rand gaze, fixed on the
silver bullet of a first-class ticket on a jet plane
into slavery to a capitalist capo. This is the
culmination of Socialist Realism.

Four wars later, we'll meet behind
the door of a women's shelter,
holding flasks filled with our own tears,
each marked with an urgent message:


*save and protect


bluestorm said...

Wow. Strong!! I love this piece.

Iulia Flame said...

Thank you. I hesitated over posting it. But it is from a place of love, I hope.

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