Huffington Magazine Issue 15 | Page 90

chapter 3 poem To keep it short. You’re so frightened now you’re shitting in Your pants. Can we take this up another time? You feel gagged, and look at how your hands are tied behind you so you have to cradle the contrivance with your chin. Boris Leonidovich, have a pleasant meal. An old camp counselor, a bully Boy Scout grown into a what? A what? . . . writing for him on Yagoda-Checkist checker board, black squares and red, king makers, triple jumps, a bowl of raspberries lodged in each man’s lap, a rasp in both voices, a rattle then: Were I to take my pencil up for the supremist praise, I would speak of him who shifts the axis of the world and call him by his dobrydawnsong name, Dzhugashvili  Koba was a nom de guerre, and he darkened eighteen others. Dzhugashvili only an aubade. V The telephone, the book, the pencil, and the bomb. The horseshoe, the letter Ж, Ap