THE LAST STANDING

The last standing
at the ocean

reeds pass by
a green bottle

with a prophecy
motioning us for the ages

inside we read
the ancient script

in genesis language
fishing to Freud's parthogenesis

inside our psyche
we hear fiddling musicians

in Russia beyond
the pale, the Urals

a remnant in fringes
saved from  death camps

from the echo of the Gulags
and Marxian nightmares

of the annoyed intelligentia
bodies lost in absentia

the unemployed distopian
and the lumpen proletariat

ride together on the yellow chariot
pale horse of Iscariot

an old man
from the last cave

of civilization's ship of fools
realizes he is the last survivor

asks for a savior
or savoir faire piece of veal

with lemon
and mushrooms

in a litter of his last meal
with wine and cheese

by gold dust still shining
in Olga's earing

at the light house
and lamp post

his passport
last stamped in Polska.