‘Rasputina Confers with Her Cohorts’: A Poem by Joseph S. Salemi

Rasputina Confers with Her Cohorts

“Rasputina” is the feminine form of the Russian name Rasputin.
He of course was the religious impostor who gained a malign
influence over the Romanov family, and used it to manage
important political decisions and state policy in Russia. He also
enriched himself, and indulged in gross bouts of drinking and
sexual abandon.

We never meddle in affairs of state.
We mystics stand above terrestrial matters.
The world is rank with lies and greed and hate—
Its anger seethes, the courtier smiles and flatters.

That doesn’t mean that God can be forgotten.
After all, the Kingship of the Lord
Must be established, and this sin-soaked, rotten
Vale of tears be cleansed by Word and Sword.

We cannot do it openly. There are
Just too many persons who oppose us.
They have no fear; their arguments by far
Are strong enough to flatten and bulldoze us.

And therefore we must plot by indirection:
Make friends with those in higher ranks above.
Rasputin got the Romanov connection
By influence, finagling, and fake love.

Sing songs of saints—they’ll always serve your need.
Once the Czarina’s wrapped around your finger
The others in the court will sweat and bleed
To join in with the music, and each singer

Will strive to be more orthodox than others.
Converts always cling to sacred texts
And hope that they’ll be better than their brothers.
If they don’t win, they’re very cross and vexed.

That’s the way—insinuate “the Word”
In everything you say and write and promise.
Cultivate the mindset of the herd
In all of them, from leader down to novice.

Once the Good Book has them hooked and wriggling
We then can use the Sword of Wrath Immense
And start imposing “guidelines”—that means niggling
Little rules devoid of any sense.

It’s easy—simply get them to agree
To minor things, and all the rest will follow.
All said and done, the fait is accompli.
Refusal would seem mulish, crude, and hollow.

And soon you’ll have a little cult around you
To do your bidding, and fulfill your whims.
When troubled, they will come to you and sound you
Out on how to follow pious hymns

And make their actions “godly” and attuned
To what we mystics teach is God’s desire:
A cult of rabid acolytes who’ve swooned
To be warmed by the flames of holy fire.

And doing this, we will serve the Almighty—
Our little lies and plots He deems as naught.
The only thing that matters is the sight He
Has of our triumph: paid for, sold, and bought.

Joseph S. Salemi has published five books of poetry, and his poems, translations and scholarly articles have appeared in over one hundred publications world-wide.  He is the editor of the literary magazine TRINACRIA and writes for Expansive Poetry On-line. He teaches in the Department of Humanities at New York University and in the Department of Classical Languages at Hunter College.