when i start by name <br />perhaps in a flap of fault <br />exculpate my soul <br />for maximum rectitude <br />is the true fill of my heart <br />glory to the sons of Russia <br />Kudos to you all and your foremen; <br />Nikolai Gogol the master in the dead souls <br />Alexander Pushkin the effeminate poet <br />Vladimir Lenin who knew what was doable <br />Alexander sholenestysn the Siberian jail bird <br />who was on the poetic phone by five <br />Feodor Dostoyevsky the epileptic Karamazov <br />Maxim Gorky and Antony Chenkoy leave them alone <br />Ayn Rand the woman who shrug the atlas for we the living <br />Vladimir Nabokov the school master who asked for sex <br />from her student the adourous Lolita <br />Boris Pasternak the Muzhik like Leo Tolstoy <br />who wanted land beyond the horizon <br />for doctor Zhivago the sexy peasant <br />or Vladimir Makayavosky who slapped the public <br />in the face of their capitalistic taste, <br />Glorified be you all you sons of Russia <br />your Muse is beautiful and erotically crazy <br />glory for your humour and your finer threads <br />with which you have woven for me my poems of dystopia <br />glory be to you all in the stark oblivion <br />of Leon Trotsky and his penman Leonid Brezhnev<br /><br />alexander opicho<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-all-the-russian-poets/
