In the dead of night
My mobile rings
Torn from a sweet dream
My partner’s voice –
She’s my waking service –
She says
Talking me awake and
Telling me to cook some
Fuul.
No. I won’t cook
But shower languidly.
By the time my set alarm
Rings once
The sun’s already up.
Time to eat my goat yoghurt
With nuts and berries.
Collect thoughts and some
Necessities
Walk over to Mr.T’s flat
Mrs IRA will drive us to the
Excursion bus. OK.
It’s great that Mr.T’s up
Almost ready to go.
His wife and the poet have
To handle him with kid’s gloves
Unfortunately he’s easily irritated
Aggravated with a taint of
Reoccurring annoyance
He’ll stop everyone who
Interferes with his rhythm
Of morning ritual.
Not me
Just nudge him along
Until he’ll overcome his
Initial fear of travelling on
A bus to Mauthausen
To a remembrance ceremony
Of the Holocaust.
B my partner in love and crime
Wished to be included
Yet Mr.T could only include
One person to accompany him.
We are punctual.
The bus will leave at 7:00 am.
Fine.
After 2 ½ hours we’ll be kneecapped
Due to the tight seating
But Mr.T seems to take all quite
Well in his stride
Talking up a woman traveler.
At least after a pit stop at the
Outskirts of St.Pölten
The bus finally arrives in the
Village of Mauthausen and
Continues a small road up to the
Former death camp of the Nazis.
A great assembly of visitors and
Partakers to the ceremony
Crowd the entrance and the
Apell-courtyard with the twin
Fear imposing towers
Reminding of Eastern oligarchy.
Something of a demonic air
Oozes from the roughhewn stone
That saw lots of violence and blood
And absorbed the cracking gunshots
That killed the innocent victims at
The infamous Death stair to the
Stone quarry.
Drawings from Simon Wiesenthal
Came to mind.
Once we’ve enter the former
Collection camp
I recall the horrors there
When I visited with B the first time
On a walk about in 1996
Driving back from Germany.
As she did not wish to visit the camp
In Theresienstadt
She finally agreed to visit with me
The Mauthausen camp en route.
Häfele who informed the US troops
Close to Linz
Saved the inmates and the barracks
We see today
From being blown to smithereens.
The parade of European countries
Overseas countries
Where survivors chose to resettle
The endless rows of social democratic
Youth
Who had banners scolding the
Present set-up of a right-orientated
Government
Were standing out with their
Demonstration of a mass of
Flying red flags
Dominating their presence above
All other groups of young people.
The sun blisters from a cloudless sky
Time for Prof. G to ask his friends
If they were prepared to take us
Back to Vienna as we were not
In a position to reach the bus in
Time for its departure.
Besides we still had to do some
PR-work with Mr.T’s latest DVD
About his Dad’s art
A gift he presented the two
Chancellors
The present and the previous.
Our travel hosts: Lutz and Helga
Stopped for lunch at the pub
‘Blaue Traube’. We followed.
The soup was average
But the Blaufränkisch wine
Was excellent.
Mr.T did a losing battle with
His small portion of beef.
Once all settled in Lutz’s Audi
We arrived well in Vienna
While Mr.T talked to Lutz and
I conversed with Helga
About a few topics
Cutting travelling time to bits
Shortening the boredom of
Motorway travel.
Perhaps we’ll go for coffee
Lutz said at our farewell rituals.
Why not we were pleasant
Company to each other.
Indeed.
A great day in memorial to all
Gruesome deaths to the inmates
Yet rounded off with some good
Talk and discovering common
Sympathies for each others.
MAUTHAUSEN.NESUAHTUAM
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’18.