Till Eulenspiegel Terms 09.09.2009 Poem by Margaret Alice

I come to the office like a veritable
Till Eulenspiegel following the letter
of the law, sitting at my desk, endu-
ring the heat, making no complaints

A soldier on duty - just as Till kept the
letter of the law forbidding him to let
his feet touch the kingdom’s soil, he
simply brought his own instead

Loaded a wagon with soil and sat on
it when passing through the forbidden
kingdom, escaping from death because
no-one may touch his neck in beheading

I am here in Till Eulenspiegel’s terms
manning my post while there is a fire
raging in my head, cold symptoms
making it impossible to concentrate

But I get paid to serve needy clients, work
alongside valiant colleagues in the heated
trenches, sniffing and spreading germs, in
two weeks’ time I am going on leave, cannot

Lie down and leave everybody to their own
devices, I always put in an appearance, doing
my best to sit up straight, checking translations
causing nihilistic attacks of such existential crisis

Feeling like Death himself, fires raging in my head
as I have already said, but I am forging on, moment
by dreary, drab, grey and meaningless moment, the
little Alien in my head already almost dead