The Watchman: Third German Spy

Posted by ractrose on 21 Apr 2020 in Art, Poems
Pastel drawing of city commons with stature




The Folly

The German Spy





 The Watchman


She would, Agnes, the wife, or helpmeet

(this was possible) approach the embassy



She would, on an island nation folded, in state laid cerebral

along the coast (the brain an aging cheese

encroached…by mites…active pissing virtue

upon the host) go when summoned

float at very sunrise

Krug had known it, time most wise

the sun so sharp, the watchman weary

When a countryman, a Greek or Pole

A bloody Czech

A Catalan contrarian, a Turk

(Her same photograph on four separate

Passports, her same autograph, with four separate

Surnames, once Tattersby, once Serna, once dos Santos;

Once Agnes, first name Jane)

She had the child with her, sending him away

She turned…if tears were in her eyes

Obscured by rain

She stared, and Krug knew failure



She’d crossed to take his arm

And in a trance, becharmed, he’d gone


Now let his agonies be devoured

Let pellets of private speech stink from walls

their sour stink

But let her think to come and see




The German Spy

Pencil drawing of glass-eyed assassinThe Assassin Comes














(2018, Stephanie Foster)




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