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Tanisha Sethi

Classics Fantasy Inspirational


Tanisha Sethi

Classics Fantasy Inspirational



2 mins 186 2 mins 186

You do not do, you do not do

 Any more, black shoe

In which I have lived like a foot 

For thirty years, poor and white, 

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you. 

You died before I had time——

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, 

Ghastly statue with one gray toe 

Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic 

Where it pours bean green over blue 

In the waters off beautiful Nauset. 

I used to pray to recover you.Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town 

Scraped flat by the roller

Of wars, wars, wars.

But the name of the town is common. 

My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two. 

So I never could tell where you 

Put your foot, your root,

I never could talk to you.

The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.

 Ich, ich, ich, ich,I could hardly speak

.I thought every German was you.

 And the language obscene

An engine, an engine

Chuffing me off like a Jew.

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. 

I began to talk like a Jew.

think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna 

Are not very pure or true.

With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck 

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack

I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.

And your neat mustache

And your Aryan eye, bright blue.

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——

Not God but a swastika

So black no sky could squeak through. 

Every woman adores a Fascist, 

The boot in the face, the brute

 Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy, 

In the picture I have of you,

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot

 But no less a devil for that, no not 

Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.

I was ten when they buried you.

 At twenty I tried to die

And get back, back, back to you.

I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack, 

And they stuck me together with glue. 

And then I knew what to do.

I made a model of you,

A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw. 

And I said I do, I do.

So daddy, I’m finally through.

The black telephone’s off at the root, 

The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——

The vampire who said he was you

 And drank my blood for a year,

Seven years, if you want to know.

Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart 

And the villagers never liked you.

They are dancing and stamping on you. 

They always knew it was you.

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

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