Ah that soft white something
Cheers P
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
Behalf Of Max Richards
Sent: 24 August 2011 01:54
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: snap: waiting for Hitler
Waiting for Hitler
We docile villagers
standing shoulder to shoulder
awaited the Fuhrer.
Any minute he would appear
in his shining black Mercedes.
He'd get out as we cheered
and step inside this school
where the children would be edified.
How evil he was I had some idea -
no one in world history
a more worthy candidate
for assassination - at the cost
merely of his killer's life.
Without Hitler Germany
might come to its senses.
We waited. I had no gun.
All I might be capable of
was not saluting,
preferably unobserved.
This occupied me to my shame
and the wait went on.
Alternatively, I was beyond
on the open ground
along which that cavalcade
would soon glide in and stop.
Guards were everywhere.
They could see I was unarmed.
In my arms I had something white,
soft, no possible missile.
Still no black vehicles.
Two enormous dogs appeared.
Frightened but not terrified,
I knew I must keep between
the dogs so they'd move past
and into the village.
I ducked and weaved,
they glanced disdainfully
at me, used to cowards.
Baffled, I felt a notion form:
the future is already history.
Still I waited for Hitler,
clutching my soft white something.
Max Richards
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