prigozhin epic

Prigozhin's stable-boy pulled off the swap/
bronze axle-pin replaced with one of wax/
Life's tenuous for Russians near the top;/
they pull no pensions once they've got the ax.//
From thirty thousand feet, this took a bit/
'though decompression might have knocked them out./
If they were conscious by the time they hit/
who'd punched their final ticket's not in doubt./
"Appeal to Heaven"'s still Locke's last resort;
vonStauffenberg's revered for having tried.
Once Putin neutered both the Press, and Court,
fond dreams of perestroika wholly died.
One wing blew off, the other did its job
jet-powered maple seed's a frantic thing.
Without due vengeance, there could be no mob;
you get no second shot to kill a king.
Myrtilus never got to claim his prize;
Tantalides dispatched him off a cliff.
No court backs traitor's claim to what he buys,
when Pelops says he thought it's just a gift.
Myrtilus never got to claim his prize;
Tantalides dispatched him off a cliff.
No court backs traitor's claim to what he buys,
when Pelops says he thought it's just a gift.

Sweet Daphne fled to London for his life
rebuffing Putin's larcenous advance.
Ten years in prison, sundered from his wife

no rules the swankest dojo West of France.

The part of Icarus is hard to cast
so many took to wing, but splatted hard.
This open-window policy can't last;

surviving oligarchs are on their guard.