The Crooner

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Engelbert, don’t leave your suitcase here
you are not staying
and stop humming that song about
“Her head upon my pillow”
It makes me think of Mary Stewart’s
hers they laid upon a black silk cushion,
her executioners cried,
men can be so sentimental about women
they have abused.

Martha Hari,
the bewildered, working class tart,
they called her a spy
and shot her,
later in the officer’s mess they drank to her memory
and made her into a legend.
Engelbert take your suitcase and leave
I won’t let your sentimental crooning swish through my head,
it’s four in the morning
for heaven’s sake!