"I leave the symbols to symbol minded", George Carlin.
***
When I was 5 -
Kindergarden with floors of red, with toys we couldn't play,
Red soup, red corner with a proud portrait..
We wouldn't dare to look at it directly,
For it was Lenin with his eyes sharp and moustach tricky
We always wondered what he'd say...
What he'd say of soups uneaten and sholaces undone,
For disobedience to our teacher's gaze.
Our happiness gone, we'd head to the massive bedroom
And pretend to be asleep at 1pm.
And then we would pretend our waking up,
Our getting dressed, we would pretend our love
for our teacher and our Lord the Lenin,
We would pretend we're looking forward to an evening
Of more red soup by our mothers, by stories of
Party victories told by our fathers...
When I was 9 -
One day I became a pioneer with a red tie around my neck
With Lenin's face pinned on my uniform.
We'd march into our school and promise
Our eternal allegience to the Party
We would pretend we're looking forward to our red future,
To the achievement of communism and enjoying freedom unseen...
We would pretend we liked the scheduled day
And liked to wear a brown uniform and put a coat over it so gray
We would think we were soldiers...
