LAST RUSSIAN PICTURE SHOW

"I will never watch this movie again,"
Said the gentleman, leaving the hall.
The usher just nodded and smiled at him then,
Not knowing the truth of it all.

The film showed the nation in glorious might,
Each enemy crushed with a cheer,
The leader's wise gaze bringing darkness to light—
Such drivel they worshipped — sincere.

His suitcase stood packed in his childhood room,
His mother's portrait beside.
Tomorrow the plane would lift off through the gloom,
His passport and grief as his guide.

This masterpiece wouldn't play west of the border—
Too crude for a civilized taste.
And when the regime falls into future disorder,
Such trash will be thoroughly erased.

"I will never watch this movie again,"
He knew, and he knew it was true.
Not here in this land of washed-out brain,
Not there, and not when this is through.