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Sketches of Three Communistic Big Heads 

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1. Xi Jinping

Who thinks this belly-flopping avarist is good
except those marrying the flies that buzz and hiss
while he rips up the world, gnashing it to cud
until it udders out as worthless golden piss?

They’re turd-land-dwellers sympathetic to the Devil,
who say his job’s a job that somebody must do.
They want to wed the warmth at Jinping’s shrinking level,
down at the place where putrid wastes of worlds accrue.

This emp’ror does wear robes—lacquered thick with sin—
that in themselves are no more than a thread-rubbed shroud,
massed cover sheets of lies whose spread is balding thin—
and from his mouth he burps a poison mushroom cloud.

Napoleon’s phrase from days gone by may still sound shocking
but matches Xi—“A heap of shit in a silken stocking.”

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Poet’s Note: the quote in the last line comes from something Napoleon is said to have said of the crafty statesman Talleyrand. 

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2. Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin

Feelings are not facts, of that fact I’m aware,
so I take care to prep my presence to succeed
in pin-pricked clothes in flag-pressed halls where princely flare
convinces viewers that my state-rule’s long decreed.

To embody statehood I’ve exposed my pecs
in verdant outdoor settings on my red high horse.
I thrive on shows of strength in suited walks that vex
my wife as I transmute my sex to statehood’s course.

(She is not with me on all the things I do
but she’s on-side, presentable, on trophy shelves
like most my subjects who abide and follow through,
convinced my oratory includes their loyal selves

—but mostly I have real-life zombies close to me
and closest still the embalmed minds of the KGB.)

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3. Little-Un (Kim Jong-Un)

All dynasties launch out of Chaos, then back in,
so Kim Jong-Un whips shipshape order in his realm.
His citizens sail freely to their scar-hard skin,
outside of which he fills the air and swerves the helm.

Jong-Un’s the wayward young-un to Big Bro Jinping.
Kim learns from watching Xi, how best to make ends meet
(the ends of public manacles, that sort of thing.)
Thus Kim keeps Chaos out of reach, short and neat.

As though behind a coffin, people walk the street—
they’re slow and hold their leader’s line, know his way,
display his picture in their homes, bow and greet,
are well re-hearsed to cry if he should pass away.

To keep down Chaos over all,
Kim keeps his subjects small.

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Damian Robin is a writer and editor living in the United Kingdom.