the long  day and Hitler

the long day and Hitler

It is Christmas Eve the TV has nothing to offer but sentimental
crap, where the rich rescue a Christmas for the poor and everyone
in the park and sing while bells chime; no one has bored anyone
by pointing out that it is Jesus’s birthday today.
Flicking through the computer’s many sites, I came across Hitler’s
drawing of Father Christmas, a haunted face casting a side glance
not sure, if someone is making fun of him, the eyes also tell us of doubt
over his profession as a clown.
Hitler didn’t travel much, once he stayed in Liverpool for two years
worked as a waiter serving bangers and mash to the local population
the famous sense of humour from that place didn’t rub off on him.
He left, and there was a rumour of him and a pregnant scullery maid.
The next time he journeyed abroad, he went to Paris to see the usual
tourist sites, he didn’t enjoy Paris much took the first train home back
to his mountain retreat, where he played with his dog, went for long walks
and lived in peace until the bombing began.