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