Bloodlands

Bloodlands,

sucking quicksands

expensive drinks spilled onto the Kremlin floor

like memories of a great heroic war

near a private bathroom door

left ajar

look! 

a spying

 

sitting Tsar

taking a needed break

holding his pet snake

reading history books and fairy tales

polishing his scales

hissing orders over the phone

while sleeping alone

with himself as his best friend

waiting for the enigmatic end

missing a loving heart

pointing to an ancient wall chart

watching the tiny grains of sand 

slipping thru his Russian hand

like dreams of former empire

strung on the other side 

of  distant barbed wire.