The Sturmbannführer's Garden Party
The Sturmbannführer's garden party
was an august but decorous affair.
The tea was the finest Ceylon
with a slice of Lisbon lemon.
The crusts had been removed
from the cucumber sandwiches
with the most exquisite precision.
The petits fours were on point,
the mille-feuilles a symphony.
There was light badinage
with an air of persiflage.
As a day it was perfection,
one goose step away from heaven.
And what about the firing squad?
They all stepped up and hit the spot
again and again
and again and again
and again and again
and again.
B.R. 29.01.2022
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