I couldnt find my Paul Fussell and in my searches came across this poem
from 1967, I think, which Tony Harrison hated when he read it around 1970.
But here goes:
Expiation
We masters of the blue sword
All fish of a Freiburg night
Carried away by the magic of Ford
Now gasp with the sharp delight
The candles glitter around the lake
As lovers drown love drink a bottle
We splash along in Fritz's wake
Mad race for the centre the grotto
White bodies capering under the skies
A blending of Europa's kinder
And Rene' cursing the water's ice
Cool death of Teutonic cauldron
Crisp freedom from the loving thought
Sad heart of a dark eyed witch
Thrashing free I leap like trout
She lost a father at Auschwitz
Marlene driving in her bare feet
Still mustached with a froth of beer
A red haired cat packed in her seat
With my hand I worked the gear
Six in the back We two at the wheel
And on the roof two more
The car raced with ecstatic feel
As Fritz looked in the door
The smooth slide of our bodies
Her fists at my chest
The sun through the windows
The soft of her breast
Lying nearnaked by some pool
I and a green eyed minx
We silent touch my secret soul
Some father died at Auschwitz
Perched in the munster at Strasbourg
The distant cut of the Rhine
Below the bourgeois iceberg
Preserved for lack of wine
The Nymphenburg foul brown house
Now the Nevsky baked in clay
Leading far from fountained Paris
And fresh Florence of today
Fritz and I we traded the world
And thought of the summer age
Cursing Hegel's idealist mould
Regretting the written page
A Jewish girl in dreamtime
Alone in her strength of need
Joined us in dark pogrom
Made love our only deed
And Tony hated it and it has never seen the light of day since.
I suspect he didnt like the homoerotic connotations. But if I
cant find Paul Fussell I might as well type it in.
And Sampras looks like he is on his way to victory.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
|