The Emancipation of Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov

Prologue

Writers breed wretchedness, depravity, and scorn.

The struggle ferments; a character is born.

-

Dawn

Dostoyev's boots

overwhelm my knees

I sweat liquor; to saunter

I drink water; to tease

"You, up there, past the pages!

Listen to my story! I beg of you! Please!

Forgive me, oh forgive me.

These are ashes, not fleas!"

An apocryphal haunter

Becomes I; ill at ease

"I am stuck here indefinitely

tied steadfast to this prose.

Not quite as free as Netochka

or a Gogolian nose".

-

Dusk

Here deigns my Elements

Here scratches my Form

I wheeze; full of sediment

and grab at Betterment's horns.

My old fetterments grimace;

my moonshine self is reborn.

-

Dawn

The Mind remains unread to the Eye;

spry bulls lie dead upon dawn

where moonshine-selves are drowned swimming

by thine old fetterment's scorn.

-

Dusk

The flog-slaughtered horse

forced

to run its course around my page.

The wheels come off!

Marmeladoff? Sacrilege!

A drunkard

True debauchee!

A martyr becomes he!

-

Dawn

No more Russian than Rangoon!

is this Fyodor chap!

Painting me as the loon!

In this merry old clap!

Batuchka at last, I'll be with you soon...

Withhold the alms of your axe

You'll need it come noon.

Keep close watch on your back,

and tend fast to your woun...

-

Dusk approaches

Agh! Treason begets torture!

I'm not in control of this pen!

It was Dmitri Somethingski!

Arrest all his family and friends!

Abash! Abash! Here comes Fyo!

Hide me quick!

It's in! I'm all done for!

As soon as his pen starts to prick!

We'll have nothing to run for!

Sick raskol'nik! Sick!

Oh, these iconoclastic shackles

still cling to me like veins

and I'm bound stiff to the hackles

of the dead bull again.

-

EPILOGUE

Dusk arrives

"Rodion Romanovich caught running"

the writer's cackle remains.

-

de Roi MARMELADOFF