The naked old man
crouched
a fascination on his parsnip face
the scent still lingered
boiled cabbage, beets, dog
her babushka smelled of it
outside he raised his eyebrows
snow flakes melted on stitched up
lips. Eyes needled down
he dived on the hare
ripped it open
guzzled it's blood
gnawed it's tender bones
burped
lay back, ice scalding his scrawny buttocks
scrotum shrivled tight against the cold
overhead black fumes from the Collective
smeared the sky a soupy brown
hiding the winter solstice
he cackled like a crow
waved his arms through drifts, became an angel
watched, amazed
his erection rise, high as any chimney!
he froze that way
that old man
a plucked chicken on ice
he died
dreaming of Perestroika
hearing the Red Army Choir approaching
wishing he wasn't still Russian
...
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