deepundergroundpoetry.com

Chili Chocolate

The last day of the war: the Fuehrer’s personal quarters, 9 am.
“Fuehrer, you’re as morose as a drunk moose stuck up a tree.”
“Now is not the time to be funny Alina, and please do remember this is Germany, not Sweden”
“Yes my love… chili chocolate?”
“No, it is so… French”
“Oh well, more for me… I hear your investment in schadenfreude isn’t doing so well”
“It’s no fun when they don’t scream, more so with the end of the war drawing near”
“You could always attempt to be a good citizen and stop torturing those poor souls”
“How many times have I told you, the poor don’t have souls!”
“So I guess we’re going to hell then…”
“There are worse things in life than death my dear”
“Yes and you’re the carrier pigeon of torment, aren’t you”
“I believe that is the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me”
“Ah my brave lion, you know I only jest”
“Of course you do”
“Speaking of birds, have you heard the Legend of the Peacock?”
“Another of your fables Alina?”
“I thought you loved me for my fables Fuehrer”
“At times like this I am not so sure, but please do go on”
“It is said a peacock holds every secret of the world within one feather, with all its colours, and shapes and that with every strand a different story must be told properly, if not, then it must not be told. We could re-write the history of this my dear”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Tell the English you where possessed by the Devil or some such, they are quite religious like that”
“Or we could escape on a rickshaw pulled by the enemy into a star studded night to live happily ever after. Don’t be so ridiculous Alina”
“It was just a suggestion Fuehrer”
“I see that your nails are a lovely shade of blood”
“Ah yes, they did a charmingly good job at the salon, for so few francs”
“We are in hard economic times”
“I suppose we are… are you sure you don’t want any chocolate Fuehrer? Sooner or later the time for us to enjoy such expensive pleasure at the folly of others will be no more”
“No Alina, I do not”
“Oh… I do believe I feel a little unwell”
“That would be the cyanide”
“But…but I thought you loved me”
“You are only good for one thing Ali love, love has nothing to do with it”
Breathlessly “So… why poison me Fuehrer? Have I not satisfied you?”
“Oh course you have, I simply have to secure the possibility of copulation in the afterlife”  
“May the pigeons shit on your grave!”
Servant rushes in “Sir, we have visitors”
“Ah the English, always getting in the way… chili chocolate Bruno?”
“Thank you sir”
“I suppose there time for one more fleeting indulgence… mmm…”

© Indie Adams 2011
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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