Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Martin Figura

VICTOR

VICTOR

VICTOR

As fathers stroll home from work
there is no birdsong and the November light
is all but gone.

Small boys run amok in avenues,
take cover behind privet hedges –
the smell of cordite, heavy in the air.

Over the traffic, the sound of battle:
grenades whistling overhead, the sporadic
rattle of toy guns from doorways.

At tea time, those whose turn it is
break cover, make a zigzagging run for it
shouting – ACHTUNG ACHTUNG.

They go down in a hail of bullets,
competing for the most dramatic death.
The pavement is so littered with Germans

the men must pick a way through
to reach their gates and take their sons
down paths into quiet houses.
Close

VICTOR

As fathers stroll home from work
there is no birdsong and the November light
is all but gone.

Small boys run amok in avenues,
take cover behind privet hedges –
the smell of cordite, heavy in the air.

Over the traffic, the sound of battle:
grenades whistling overhead, the sporadic
rattle of toy guns from doorways.

At tea time, those whose turn it is
break cover, make a zigzagging run for it
shouting – ACHTUNG ACHTUNG.

They go down in a hail of bullets,
competing for the most dramatic death.
The pavement is so littered with Germans

the men must pick a way through
to reach their gates and take their sons
down paths into quiet houses.

VICTOR

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère