(with apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
At Idokopas did Vladimir
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where a block of seventy-four hectares span
And a special rock-carved tunnel ran
Down to the east Black Sea.
So many miles of fertile ground
With walls and turrets girdled round:
And there were gardens thick with stern armed guards,
And a port, vineyard, a hockey rink, and church of old;
Here too was forest, a casino replete with wheels, chips, cards
And toilet brushes, $850 each, all blocked in gold.
But oh! that deep troubling abyss which erupted
Down slopes amid protected air and water!
A savage place! unholy, and corrupted
As could be in a land interrupted
Rarely by the free, nor casual slaughter!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this land in fast thick pants were breathing,
Amid this tumult came a mighty buzz of drones afar,
Vladimir heard new voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the house of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the priceless treasure
Of ninety-three million you-tube saves.
It was a miracle of rare and precious vibe,
History of the world’s largest bribe!
And all that see them crouching there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His corrupt visage, his floating stare!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
For he will render witness dead,
Exact from all a fearful price.