Should I Perchance Arise... Poem by Paul Abucean

(To the semi-illiterate erudite Popa Ioan, of 'Universul Românesc')


He looms in darkness - spying, yet unspied.
Propelled by theft from toiling brows is he -
a good-for-nothing youthful retiree,
whom Father Russia's trough keeps well-supplied.

Securely bundled in his shame-proof hide,
and sworn to have his way though no way be,
he rapes and plunders with impunity,
and over us he rolls his tanks with pride.

Oh Vlad, of all impalers lord supreme,
'tis time such wounds to cauterize a bit;
'tis time to once anew bring forth thy toys!

And yet in this, thy grand impaling scheme,
go gently, for it stands to benefit
both Angie's sissies and Rasputin's boys.

Paul Abucean

(2012)