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Tony Grist

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They Also Serve [Jun. 16th, 2016|11:04 am]
Tony Grist
They Also Serve

I ring the bell
And a servant comes;
He brings me things.
His name is Franz.

His wife is dead
But he has a daughter
(A poet needs
To know such things)
A clever girl
Who can write her name
And lives on a mountain
And milks the goats
For her grandmama
In another country.

I wish we were friends.
I wish he'd ask me
About my daughter.
I have no daughter.
My mother
Is a pensioned lady
Who also lives
In another country.
She walks her dogs
On the promenade
Of the Wannensee.
I live in castles
Belonging to women
Richer than I am.
I think he hates me.

Last week I asked
For a ream of paper-
A certain weave,
A certain colour-
And there it is
On the desk by the window
Unwritten on.
He's too polite
To look that way
But if he did
I'd want to tell him,
"Listen Franz
I'm a servant too;
I hang around,
I take dictation."

Sometimes I think
I'll ask him for
Something absurd
Like a pamplemousse.
He'd find it too
He's clever that way,
Or his mistress is.

The sea is calm,
The sky is blue
Is that a gull,
Eh, Franz? Franz.

Oh angel with
Your eyes of jet,
With your feet of flame.
Oh angel with the words- words-
Don't be a stranger.

[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2016-06-16 12:30 pm (UTC)

I was thinking about Rilke. The speaker isn't Rilke (I don't know enough about him for one thing) but he was the jumping off point.
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