Count Von Götzen, 1894
When the man with no skin
came over the hill, I said
to my brother: Hey. Look there.
That man has no skin. The man
walked closer. He raised his arms
in the air. He came closer still.
My brother said to me: No. I think
He has skin. But it’s bright red.
Doesn’t look like skin to me, I said.
We saw little suns where his eyes
should be, the tortoise shell perched
on his head, saw that he had no toes
but walked on brown stumps instead.
Hi, said the man with no skin,
How’s the news? Hi, we said.
The news is good, we said.
I come from far away, he said.
There are many more like me.
I want to see the King, he said.
We laughed. He couldn’t speak very well,
this man with no skin. Nobody sees the King.
We laughed again and ran through the city
shouting the news as we went.
The man with no skin wants to see the King!
He wants to see the King!
Nobody sees the King.
People sprinted from their houses.
Torture him! Kill him! they shouted.
He wants to see the King!
String him up! Poke him with spears!
But he followed us to the palace,
too stupid to be scared,
and all the people followed him
the bright red man with no skin.
Nobody killed him.
And that was our first mistake.
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