My Cardboard Balcony

Comrade by Belinda Roddie I swim in a giant lake of frozen fishbones and Marxist dreams. The sickle tears my ribcage to shreds, but I am still serene.

"Is this really so pressing of an issue that we need to organize a whole separate meeting for it?" "Yes! You know how important this is to the club!" "No...I really don't, obviously. I mean, what could this news possibly do to upset anyone?" "Max, I know you're not taking this seriously..." "You're right. I'm not. And do you know why? Because I don't think it compromises anything, anything , about our group, okay?!"