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5/7/2015 10:12:43 PM
Bob Atkinson Posts: 294
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p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; line-height: 120%; } "Jack's Sweater Shower of Munich"
- by Bob Atkinson
Park out in the boonies away from everything nothing here of interest except the robins singing
through the entrance to the grotto where strange machines glide fast into the tunnels bored through earth toward the town of long ago man
grab a quick bite to eat at the yellow arches store sitting on hard benches unknown what this place holds
enter into the darkness oh, there's plenty of light but what to expect of this I don't know but some others might
come up the steps to a scene of craftsmanship and might stone buildings ornately made not an automobile in sight
cobblestones upon the street a people walking zone where you can cross the street in awe without trucks and taxis trampling your toes
oh, the builders of this town and those who take care of it have in my heart the due respect of one who couldn't do this
there's care of many eons it didn't happen at one time the shape of everything we saw kept these tourists' eyes wide
there was the clock it would chime we weren't looking for it but we found it there at the top of steps we all knew of it
backwards, walking across the street I now fully understood how the city left you in a trance and of your adventure glad
if car's were here allowed you'd be on their hoods viewing sky with anguished pain giving wonder and amazement to your end of days
a department store in front of us a sale of some expanse sweaters neatly on a table a woman folded the last
yes, to my awe, to my complete surprise my adventure was taking a turn in front of my wide eyes
now you must remember from Paris we did come we weren't fresh or rich of taste when to this table we stood
Jack had been thrown into the pokey in Saint Gallen, Switzerland for smashing his car into a woman's trunk while fighting a bus for land
it was raining, this is true but give me here a break who cares if you are in the front or behind this monster box when push comes to shove the larger mass prevails for it I always wait
here I have digressed I've made you wait again for the story of the table and how foolish one can seem
sometimes we are confronted plainly by those who upon us wait with disgust or disdain... as they make their funny faces or remarks sour of grace
behind our backs is worse than honestly in front they know not from where we came or who we think we are
stabbing us in the heart the digs of strangers can tear our egos apart and spoil our mind's plan
especially if it is in a language they think we don't understand or about the height or weight of one who thinks he is a man
when Jack heard these remarks about his unfolding clothes placed neatly on the table from the store to be sold
he didn't take it lightly it did not smooth his soul the anger of being insulted rose to his head from his toes
stupid American, huh? crazy ape? short of stature? from a poor place came?
well, this made him very, very mad he rose up in wild disgust at the woman throwing insults under her breath behind his back
she had, it must be understood worked very, very hard at folding sweaters on the table that Jack would open then discard
his tirade lasted moments I stood there mouth open wide and watched this wildness of mind in a place of older times
he told her in her native tongue how she was an old and ugly Mom and promised her he would take from her table all those garments
this he did, with one swift grab gathering them all, even the last into a ball between his arms and threw them high into the sky, my oh my
"Jack's Sweater Shower of Munich" now it's called decorated a street of much fine places and left astonished many faces
and I think a bit disgraced us
this true story, now related for those yet to travel abroad tells one tale of action of one raw dog
there are two lessons to be learned here in this tale of woe first for tourists a trip to make to soothe away their souls to see for themselves the place on that old and wonderful street where Jack and the clerk woman bantered fiercely while I stared nervously at my feet
you can find it if you look hard and see the clock upon the tower look to the store that is across the street see if tables are still complete with refolded sweaters, all very neat
then there is the subtle side of how others see our inner pride they see it not, they are content within their souls, their time to spend caring only about themselves letting others fold things on their tables while remembering this old fable
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