City Poems: Moscow

More Princes; more dying Princes. They are everywhere, nowadays.
all convening, pale-skinned, bruised eyes, lurking blood disease.
Yes so hard to find a holy man who will not cause a Revolution! These days
bitterness---a suck Prince killed an Empire. Not the general populace, tho'
Everyone else.

Maybe the only point of Empires are to fall.
Ottoman Turks or dispirited Slavs, We wait for it so. How dare we...
some German. And Russia, Mother Russia, repulsing the free-unfree World
come now! Whichever to be considered. Flower the snow as a Reminder.
Only towards Steel or White or Any Other who fell and rose and fell. Ah,
we dream. All of us. Despot or otherwise.