Trotsky Got the Point: Do We?

Objectivistic revisionism stands moot,

As recidivist socialismus rallies to establish

That Leon, that dear porcine Snowball of Orwellian angst,

Was murderated by a blow to his frontal lobe

Delivered from behind with penetrating

Impetus.

Three score years have passed since

Leon took the brunt of Stalin’s sharp latent criticism

Not to heart, but to brain. And now the aesthetes argue

Over whether the instrument of deliverance was an ice pick

Or that instrument of mountaineering known as a climbing

Eispickel.

It is too late to axe Leon himself, poor intellectual

Martyr that he was, for he has gone to ground forever now,

Conjecture reigning supreme, with only Madame Salas

Able to clarify the burning question of what

Exactly was used in Leon’s premature prefrontal

Lobotomy.

Ramon Mercader knows, but he is gone,

Somewhat after picking his chosen anti-Menschevik target:

Lev Bronstein. Those sneaky Heebies, forever lurking in

Ev’ry woodpile! Even a pseudonym was not enough forethought

To save our mensch Lev the terminal Jeebies, on that fatal

Day.

Lev got the point, but does anyone today?

Ana Alicia Salas has recently ignited a new party schism

By declaring her intent to auction off that infamous

Mucronated cudgel to the highest bourgeois bidder

For serious rasbuckniks. Sic transit gloria