Chapman From The Hinterland (...Or April - April) Poem by Floy Dy Ra Aka Floyd Floydson

Ding! Dong! I go to the door
A scissors grinder stands with much sense
And asks for orders for knives,
Scissors, saw blades and spades
Probably right next to the garden -
I'd have a lot of eaters at home
He says he had mobile with the workshop
He would also come back, if it does not go now.
I'm currently broke,
But it's Saturday when it's going to be
Your mobile horse then ride? ...
So do it on Saturday at lunch time: Ding! Dong!
The interlude says: 'I'm coming!
He takes two knives out of my hand
And asks where the sockets are in the wall?
I hurry quickly to the landlord,
Which turns on, the electric for its tenant
Thank me and say: only 5 minutes!
He nods graciously and hurries down
The grinder is equipped with a cable drum
And distort the grooves
As I then take his plug
And plug him in - in the cellar - quite unhappy
It rotates in the vehicle immediately
A belt grinder and noises at the same time
The grinder sharpens my best knife
That is probably sharp, but he's better
He says: 'even new knives must be grinded,
Unless only 50% of sharpness would be enough for you
They would all be half as sharp,
Otherwise customers would cut,
And are actually fucked
But he gave me 3 years' warranty '
I smile, and almost love him
Then he pulls the cutting edge
And shows me a block of undefinable grinding paste
I ask what that is, but he says:
This remains the secret of his caste
Then he says: try your times on your forearms
I crumble my shirt, but hardly any hair
He shows it on his own bushy arms
Shaved them at once - my God: have mercy!
Go inside, he says, and test it by yourself
I do the same at the top with my typewriter paper
As sharp as razor blades, I hurry down to the door
But can not see the grinder anywhere else
And look around the vehicle corner`
There he stands and pisses on the tires
For me only tolerably hidden
I was so frightened by such a sight
Turn around immediately and wait behind the car
Then he comes, pants still open and asks: how was it?
What can I say:
as sharp as razor blades - leaning on the car -
Cuts paper like butter, I must say
What did you pay for the cook knife?
I already tell him the reduced price
But he knows the value better
Ten euros for this and the bread knife for eight
I say quickly, without the bread knife!
But he did it when I was upstairs,
Quickly made - asked if I live alone?
Says another man's wife cut as before
A bread after sharpening holding well before her breast
She cut off her finger - he regretted the loss
I pay his wages quickly without a receipt
Pull out the plug for the energy
The grinder still stands with open pants
I do not tell him this yet - no trallalla!
Quickly leave him and hasten to the door
Think: pirates from the hinterland - with April-April feeling.
But the same is true
The April has once again served fine.

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© Floy Dy Ra,01.04.2017