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At Vyacheslav Molotov's Office, The Kremlin, July 31, 1921
[this poem was inspired by crypticbard's poem, "Aleksander Blok"]
They tell me he is worsening, our Comrade Blok;
but I have a desk full of work and a fast clock
that always finds me days late and some ruples short:
committee meetings, Lenin's messages, each whim
he thinks up or writes down---disruptions of that sort
from which busy officials never catch a break:
even suppers are deskbound (tonight will be steak;
cooked like our good deads and our high flag---rare and red).
More documents to sign; and Comrade Trotsky said
the Soviet Union is just bureaucracy
that bears a grudge against the People: shameless prick,
that Trotsky (I myself could wield a sharp ice-pick,
and with a single swing sink it right through his head);
he thinks exactly like a cringing Menshevik.
But we digress from Comrade Blok's failing condition:
here is the document---I just need to review it.
Comrade Dmitrievna will receive permission,
to leave the Soviet Union to care for him.
I will sign off as soon as I get around to it.
Starward
That is a story behind the
That is a story behind the story. Thanks so much for sharing.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
Thank you for commenting, and
Thank you for commenting, and thank you for posting your poem on Blok that inspired my own effort. Despite my dislike of all things Soviet, I have always been fascinated by Molotov---among the Bolsheviks, he was the only one who seemed to "dress for success," while the rest of them seemed to dress in very slovenly styles. He was a formidable negotiator, especially when serving as Stalin's foreign minister, and most loyal supporter. Even when his own wife had been imprisoned as a suspected "enemy of the people," he was so fanatcially a Bolshevik that he continued functioning just as if she was dead or deported. After Stalin died, his successors---perhaps fearing what Molotov knew and the kind of reputation he had---expelled him from the Central Committee and the Party, and appointed him to a series of low level assignments, like Ambassador to Mongolia, to humilitate him on the world stage.
Starward