Iron Cross.
Under her white lace the baker’s wife wore
an iron cross, tight-lip secrecy, the baker was
in prison for selling cakes and information to
the enemy in exchange for nazi paraphernalia.
Alas the iron was contaminated by an unknown
substance, made her skin olive oil tanned, her
blond hair black, blue eyes brown, it was clear
for everyone to see she was a Levantine Jewess.
So they set the baker free, these people have
suffered enough, applause, tears and waving
of flag; the baker and his wife, emigrated to
Israel to help shape things to come.
AucklandPoetry.com presents Poet Resident JAN OSKAR HANSEN on http://OSKAR.AUCKLANDPOETRY.COM
Sunday, December 03, 2006
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