deepundergroundpoetry.com

Oslo

Oslo

I was in Oslo once and saw the old king
riding a horse, but I was a painting of the Danish king
the king of Norway is more moderate 
he drives Bentley
The king and I are of the same age,
 he looks stylish
in his admiral uniform with gold tresses 
I wear a black T-shirt. shirt it has a pocket for my glasses
The t. shirt hangs  on the balcony to dry 
while I sit bare-breasted on the sofa, waiting for 
the t. shirt to dry
it is the only shirt that hides my sagging stomach
The king was in Lisbon two years ago
the embassy
had a garden party, I was not invited, despite 
I was the only true seaman among the lot
I blame the posh people at the embassy, who thought
I might ask the king for a bigger pension 
As I said,
 I was in Oslo many years ago, invited to read
poetry, which I tried to do, but next door
a horn music orchestra was training words that came 
out of my mouth, died in the horrible noise
Yes, they had a flight to Lisbon this very afternoon
when the plane landed, I could have kissed
the tarmac, but being a Norwegian, I'm reserved
Whatever you do in life, you can't forget were
you were born  
Written by oskar
Published
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