‘SELF-PORTRAIT AS SINTERKLAAS' - DAY(DREAM) # 1,015 Poem by Alfred Schaffer

Loud banging on the door.
If it wasn't me
I'd dive behind the curtains screaming.
I came by train - my horse died
the boat sank, I crawl onto the roofs, spent.
If I do speak, I speak ten to the dozen
if I hold my tongue I'm very old
full of lies and deceit
no longer afraid to shake God's hand.
When it's my turn to go
I pull on my ordinary clothes, buy a first class single
slumber on the way like a guard
step out on a windswept platform
and shuffle incognito,
the sunlight in my neck,
along a sandy path, dead normal.
How well I recognize everything here
I'm already walking faster than just now
until, as elated as a small child
I break into a run.