on meeting ruminants
On meeting ruminants
My mother had tuberculosis, and my sister and older brother
sent to a children's home, where the idea was strictness
My brother didn't come he had an accident with
a hand grenade, he threw, but not far enough ended up
in hospital and later sent to an island breaking stones
in a quarry
My sister and I had gone to a Roma wedding and had been
told not to go to, a real working-class do, the bride was
pregnant in white, with plenty of food, and booze to
Everything began fine music and dance, until a woman
in a jealous rage, tore at the hair of another woman
Other women joined the melee, depending on the family
lines, but soon the men fired up by booze and dance
joined in a mass fighting.
Police were called, they came with batons swinging
when peace ensued the police went back to their
station, no arrest was made
When we got back to the children's home, she went
to the house for girls and I to the house for boys
I sat in the piano room, which had a picture of men with long beards, looking serious when the boss arrived to punish me came in, I threw a vase at him
The next morning, I was sent to a farm to learn how to milk
cows and and an enduring respect for ruminants
is always on my mind, as is their mild nature
Copyright ©
Jan Hansen
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