Stronger harder more patriotic abs
Katchakakov resists
the urge to distort the face of his foe,
a higher achiever who doesn't know
Katchakakov exists.
But with this blogpost he
will score a victory
that turns on a dime
the dominant paradigm.
Katchakakov resists
the severed head on a layer of white,
making the yellows a bit too bright,
etching the dewlap in extra light.
This jpeg tells the deadpan truth
and, when it's live, insists
on exposing the foe's world of lies
that Katchakakov resists.
If Cassandra had been more upbeat, we would have believed
her. She gave us nothing but downers: babies dropped
from burning towers, girls married to their rapists, lopped
limbs, rubble, rolling eyes. We were all relieved
when she'd collapse and sleep. Never positive phrases:
"We can do better keeping open the Ida road
than fighting one on one with the Greeks...If we stowed
that horse outside tonight, just til we sing the praises
of Venus, who's been for us all along..." Like that.
But credit's due: She knew they wouldn't let us go,
the pricks. And still they won't let us join the E.U.,
After all we've done. Israel, Korea, the VAT:
every issue, we're with the west. But they say no.
And we smile, shrug amiably, just as Cassandra knew.