Rigor Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Rigor

The pond in the village had a film of ice
and the snow under the elm tree had the aroma of
roasted nuts and sweet honey
there were no old women in the village they had been
melted into lard, and old men were salted and put in barrels
they would last for years.
It was a place where survivors live and to do that one had
not to eat your own new-born.
Cabbage and carrots and the spindly arms of old men
Kept the village alive while bankers skiing in the Alps
The British full of discontent waited for the US
To rescue them Anglophone, never mind the rest.
The old hatred between the French and the Germans
Was making Europe healthy again with Belgium and
Holland with costmary cowardice sided with all