Poetry

Ares

I see your thumb pointing towards the North, Putin

like the scepter of Zeus its cravings are for nuggets of peace

shrouded in cloaks of power

in stern obeisance to the regimen of your ploys

I smoke the tobacco of history, the Marlboro’s of renaissance

& I ask, lo! who is Stalin?

you, the magus of the bermuda triangle

you, the god that thirsts for blood of incendiaries

the west knows not the riddle to the pulse of your kind

Putin! here i am with my gourd filled with mercies of encomiums,

pouring libation, platitudes, on the street of moscow,

asking, again & again, who is Stalin?

                                                                             ~Olajide Vincent Ajise

                                                                              Lagos, Nigeria

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