By Pavel Chichikov
An old wall, the fresco flaking
Peels a face from Jonah's ship
Underneath the damp is slaking
Yellow plaster from his hip
They who cast him to the whale
Reef disintegrating sails
Moscow lindens I have seen
Ziggurats with shiny bark
Running rain as coldly mean
Miserly as winter dark –
Hopping in the ochre snows
Were grey and nightly-winged crows
Dressed in pestilential black
Children hugging, drunk with rage
Throw consolation off their backs
Imprison Mary in a cage
She forbearingly submits
Although she could escape, she sits –
From inside coffins made of lead:
‘Give us money quick' they said
But somewhere I have seen a man
Build a sun inside a slum
Solar systems out of sand
Continents where there were none
Singular, beyond comparing:
A three-room flat that he was sharing
He made it larger than the town
Bigger than the world around –
She was there to serve him tea
Underneath her linden tree
(Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may visit Pavel's website at http://www.greyowlpress.com.)
