Comrades in Arms

Emerging from a rank and squalid womb
Located in the dark recesses
Of Avaricious gray matter
Two brothers are born
Sired by the same Father
Incubated by the same Mother
Pink flesh meeting foul, stagnant air
Whilst humanity sleeps, unheeding
Young Croesus and Young Red
Visions of opulence and oppression
Inherent in twisted, decadent brains
Introduced as answers to a seething, chaotic world
Then separated at birth
Mother Capitalism feeds an insatiable mouth
With a malevolent and shining silver spoon
Looking down at the riff-raff
From her Mansion on the hill
Father Communism hands out cigars
Bolshevik images of power
And riches
Dancing Faust-like on Kremlin sidewalks
Polar opposites worshipping the same God
Doppelganger twins in back-to-back mirrors
Nourished by the flesh
Of those they so callously exploit
Their offspring grow and grow… ‘til they become
Monsters…ideological oligarchs
Vampires…pointed fangs in the jugular of humanity
Hawks and Doves…Bears and Eagles
Co-mingling…..Breeding
Each feathering his respective nest
One bleeds its clueless victims
Of every last one thinned dime
The other feeds its victims
In lieu of the gulag…perpetuating the crime
And in a propertied penthouse
Atop plush carpets and the spoils of war
Where fine wine and gaiety abound
The Plutocrat and the Leninite
The Fat Cat and the Marxist
Drink champagne distilled from pain
Gliding effortlessly amongst gilded lampshades
And handcrafted porcelain china
The elegant, aristocratic Maoist lady
The true blood Boston blue blood
Both wear silk stockings
The Wall Street multi-billionaire
The Trotskyite party chairman
Both have cuff links made of gold
And to those star-crossed souls
Living in their shadows
Freedoms…live
Free…to work
Free to cry
Free to grieve
Free to die
Well heeled Bolsheviks lounging in Sable
Monied Magnates tucked away in stretch limousines
Are they not?
Have they not always been?
True…Comrades in arms
Living in regal splendor
In Palaces built of broken promises
Fostering hate and distrust
To maintain their insidious charade
With the looming presence of Fascism and Socialism
Etched on marble walls erected by lackeys
Echoing with the sounds of laughter
The tinkling of counted silver
Amidst glittering piles of looted gold
As they plot…the next spontaneous conflict