“It is too late to shut the stable door when the steed is stolen.”
~ From John Heywood’s A Dialogue Containing the Number in Effect of All the Proverbs in the English Tongue (1546)
“When the well’s dry, we know the worth of water.”
~ From Ben Franklin's Poor Richard's Almanac (1746)
My mission is to go back to eighteen-seventy-nine.
I’ve been authorized to repair history’s design.
Luckily, I’ve been trained on a Woody’s Time Machine,
and granted poetic license, fate to intervene.
I’ve set the dial to Braunau am Inn, near the border
of Bavaria and Austria. I must prevent disorder.
I’ll play with history’s chessboard, move a couple pawns,
and introduce Klara Polzl to a man named Franz.
Franz needed a housekeeper, and Klara fit the bill.
So, until pigs fly, which they never did and never will,
Klara wouldn’t work for Alois. They’d not have a son,
and the world would be spared what their young Adolf had done.
An excerpt from my new short story:
After Adolf received Alois' final inheritance in 1913, he moved to Munich, Germany. During his Vienna years living in squalor, Adolf was keenly interested in the makeup of Vienna's multicultural society. Those living in the upper class were a mixture of cultures. Mostly made up of Jews. However, at that time, negativity stemmed from all the races. During his last years in Vienna, now as a young adult, the dark lord remained diligent. Adolf had a circle of friends who were Anti- Semitics.
National Socialist German Workers Party, better known as the Nazi Party. The dark lord's student has advanced himself towards a teacher's status. He is still on the ropes but is ripening from green. He has exceptionally distinguished himself as a notoriety. His prospectus holds assurances. Hope builds a future as evil takes the lead and lays down the foundation.
In a forest a girl was born
A girl born oh so poor
This girl then caused this world now torn
Her birth opens a sore
But we do not now this girl mourn
She was left some money
A thrifty woman not to scorn
Then a taste of honey
She met a man she was forlorn
Bore a son Alois
Unwed and aging, no ring worn
No ring, so still a Miss.
Her bastard son none could be warned
When his mother did wed
He gave a name the world did scorn
A name that all wished dead
If his mother knew what was born
Hitler the name we know
I wonder would she have been torn?
To give him birth, or no.
© 09/01/2013 ~GG~
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