Triumph Poem by Jan H Mysjkin

There was a final exchange of visiting cards
with a whole load of people.
There was a slowness skilfully devised.

There was, drunk and onanistic, a silent
and softish shadow, padding around,
always alone, always discreet, taciturn.

There were old folks.

* * *

There was this that my flirtation's lovely eyes spangled her coal-black diamonds with tears.

There was this that, seen from all angles, Lady Chatterley's Lover can offer personal experience certain didactic pleasures.

There was this that the packet service no longer counts as a company.

* * *

There was the triumph of the wheezy, paralytic steamboats
doing fourteen knots instead of twenty.

There was the rabble, socialism, depopulation,
anti-militarism, the arising occasion, the economic
decline, the lack of a spirit of perseverance.

There was the review, worthy of
compassion because of those innumerable short-
comings at great length.

* * *

There was this that I speak a fair amount of English, as I triumphantly made clear.