Bacalao Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Foreigner In Portugal
At the local shop I met an elderly woman, mind most
of the women I meet are elderly but this one was
primordial, she dropped her bag when seeing me and
exclaimed is it true you have two hearts? Not wishing
to disappoint her I confirmed rumours she had heard.
I even let her touch the battery just under my skin.
Nothing keeps a secret in a small village, it appeared
they knew before me, the doctor who did the job came
from farming stock, perhaps he rang someone.
Odd people live here, those who were young when I came
here have middleaged children now, but forever
I'm referred to as the English, telling people I'm from baccallao
land is met with a smile...I'm English so there.