meeting a nazi
he was like any other nasty old man
– smug – his waistline at his breasts –
a wife skittering at his pleasure
‘they made me build roads’ he laments –
chewing on a kaiser roll – tongue lapping-
moist bread churning on his gums
‘ten years they worked me like a slave –
murderers get less’ – the wife interrupts him
with attempted good humour
‘oh don’t mind him’ she says
– offering me a glass of cola –
‘leave the boy alone – it’s not his fault’
the half chewed bread slides down his dry throat –
before the adam’s-apple has come to rest
the other half of the soup dipped roll goes into his mouth
‘they were different times’ continues his wife
prizing the lid from a decorated biscuit tin –
– I take gingerbread – lay it on my knee
‘do you have grandparents’ he asks
I sip my drink and nod at the absurd question
– how else would I be here –
for some reason this pleases him
Jeremy Young lives and works in Yorkshire. He had had work published in numerous articles and anthologies, and is a member of the beehive poets.