Oh de Cologne
Off of the bus,And into the awe
Of Cologne cathedral:
I stood before
Its face,
And its call
Summoned me
Into its hall
Of sanctity
And prayer.
And,
As I stood there,
I was asked
By another of the de-bussed
Whether
I was fussed
About having
KFC
Or
Maccy D.
I told her
That to flourish meant
Having proper
Nourishment.
The quiz in her frown
Made me rephrase
Into an obscenity
In the place of He-praise:
She understood
The second version
And swearingly left me
To my immersion.
The mood had gone
With her disrespectful heels' turning:
Leaving me empty
But churning.
I walked out from the cool dark
And into the crowd:
Greeted by golden arches,
Farewelled by the shroud.
Back on the coach,
Sleeping bellies contentedly smitten
With the land of the authentic burger.
And so much cheaper than in Britain.
My belly on the journey back
Was filled,
With something else,
That had been killed.
13:01, Tue. 20/03/2007.
Poetry by Mark J. Wood
Read 629 times
Written on 2007-03-20 at 14:11
Tags Atmosphere 
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