SAXONIAN TWILIGHT Poem by Jules Deelder

In Lower Saxonia central
There once lived a floor lamp
It was tired of awaiting fate
And made a bid for power

After a week of kill and murder
In the streets across the town
His mates and himself took
Control of all vital sockets

He nailed a breakdown of demands
On the Energy Board's entry
And elected himself Leader
Of the Common People's Party

Each day he addressed the masses
Concerning rights of lights
In the context of one's duties
And of putting an end to fights

Once his speeches came to a close
Always at the stroke of ten
Against the wall he lined
A group of high and mighty men

Way down in High Saxonia
Seat of the country's ruling class
They wondered where the heck
Lower Saxonia was

When an old map gave the answer
And the border marked to a T
The zest for intervening
Turned into a let it be

Much to the displeasure
Of those high and mighty men
No selfrespecting official
Desired carrying the can

Lower Saxony and its floor lamp
Might blow up for all they cared
Preferably right this very minute
Just to be rid of the hullabaloo

So the very heart of Lower Saxony
Fell prey to the Common People's Party
Its leader becoming high and mighty
Got his light dimmed overnightly

Which dealt a fatal blow
To the rights of the lights
For without a shining example
The heart gets stuck in duties ample