Kiss Me Comrade

When the revolution came I was fast asleep, and woke to discover that my housemate now spoke in slogans and used the crockery for target practice.

When the revolution came I was on the bus, and all the road signs into town were being transliterated into Cyrillic by teams of cheerful women.

When the revolution came I was outside having a crafty fag, while they abolished the bourgeois distinction between management and staff.

When the revolution came I turned on the TV, only to find that every station was broadcasting a subtitled documentary on the life of Lenin.

When the revolution came I fell in love with you. I fell for you hard. With your socialist rhetoric and your tricksy ways. Kiss me comrade. Kiss me quick.

Russell J Turner – February 2011

five for the symbols at your door

the newspaper headlines blew down empty streets mumbling something about the third world war we were all too tired to care washed out on hope and benzedrine licking the ash off each others faces just to die that little bit quicker but not you not you under the rags deep in the cellars you scrubbed your hands again again o my lady i had no more strength the king would not die and a ghost still walked my waking dreams but there is a power in repetition first as tragedy then transcendence and i hammered my totems to the crosspiece
one for my belief in you
two for the razorblade and gun
three for the children of trinity
four for the strength to stay alive
five for the symbols at your door

Russell J Turner – February 2011

we will bury her under the trees

in a dark room i hold her and she turns from me a dark girl i hold her and she turns from me with dark eyes my hand cups her belly she turns from me a veil of tears shrouding what the mourning may bring and all i can think to say is we will bury her under the trees

Russell J Turner – February 2011