Vladimir Ilyich, lynx-eyed, fisted like a kulak,
Enters his sealed train,
Panting for breath and for purifying mankind,
Scribbles his April theses, takes Krupskaya’s hand –
‘To the Finland Station!’
Welcomed by blood-red flags and the sound of the Marseillaise.
‘All Power to the Soviets!’
Anthony Arthurovich, doyen of the Homintern,
Copies some fresh secrets,
Clears his noble throat, and calls a cab.
Watch Tony fight for the proles, and storm the ramparts!
‘To King’s Cross Station!’
To lunch with the Queen, and later on some agreeable
Cocktails at the Courtauld.