My name is Nikol, a die-hard democratic zealot,
Who was whisked to power on wings of Velvet.
It was a paint by number Color Revolution—1, 2, 3—
With me cast as Armenia’s Mikheil Saakashvili.
All three of my names, first, middle and last,
Were as Russian as sour cream from an oblast,
So I grew a beard, wore camo and wrapped my hand
To imitate the iconic Monte in command.
Costume on and looking extra photographic,
I screeched a Russian slogan and jammed all traffic.
Soon the sitting PM got a call from Mr. Putin,
And, the very next day, by God, they put me in,
A democratic leader which nobody chose
With a pocket full of IOU’s from NGO’s.
Now I was positioned to fulfill my destiny
As Armenia’s own Volodymyr Zelensky!
But behind my demagogic rabble-rousing clamor,
The velvet was merely cover for a claw hammer…
Yes, the one I brandish before crowds of braindead dregs,
Threatening to smash people’s skulls and break their legs.
Abroad I’m a sniveling coward, a spineless wimp,
Downcast eyes and the posture of a jumbo shrimp.
At home, though, I’m a lion to my critics and foes:
I allow none to dissent, disagree or oppose.
I threaten to throw them all underfoot for all to see
Because that’s how you govern a democracy!
Whether I’ll win the next election, there’s no debate
Because I, Nikol Vovayi Pashinyan, am the state!
Originally published in The Armenian Weekly, February 18, 2026 https://armenianweekly.com/2026/02/18/the-velvet-zealot-nikol-vovayi-pashinyan/
