***
The cannibal, pig that has big good luck
is heading for the devilish Soviet councils
because he’s thinking about joy, about joy ‒
only the absence of any God can make me
happy, the fear of death makes me flay
the masses that are marching to the inferno.
A marvel would be that they should all
commit suicide. They’re flayed alive
I hear their eternal voice. To tell more
is a sin. That’s how the things stand
in the Soviet empire. The rabbi sends me
there for money and death. I know
I don’t belong to the human species.
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