“I looked the man in the eye. I found him to be very straight forward and trustworthy… I was able to get a sense of his soul.” George W. Bush

a strongman wishing he had an empire
sent the cossacks after pussy riot
for singing a protest song at his olympics
a song about a shirtless man on horseback
in a land where words will get you killed,
where journalism is a death sentence,
and plutocrats preach “russia for russians”
through ultra-nationalist movements
of an old mother filling the stomachs
of her proletarian children with vodka

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