An Obsession Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

It was a strange obsession,
but it had come to him in church.
There was a bat, of course,
that fluttered, somewhat clumsily
and oscillated in between
the organ and the purple pulpit.
He'd had a funny feeling then
that bats in church meant trouble,
which was, needless to say, ridiculous.

Though, on the other hand he did
cast a good look into the face
and on the vampire coat, spread open
the clawy feet and that most vicious
head, it could well be the devil, right?

Whatever did transpire, he was now
all saddled with this single thought
that he would need to find his way
to Paris, France and then the tower.
He was to hurl himself off its high top,
and count the seconds to the very end.

He fought the thought for weeks, he did.
Then chose a Friday afternoon at last,
the bus arrived right on La Place
and up he went, slamming the door
of the South lift on reason and his life.

One foot onto the balustrade, reached up
to grab his last support in life, but then
a voice, so sweet and innocent, soprano,
asked 'Oh Monsieur, avez-vous faim? '
He was not hungry, for Christ's sake,
and told her so, but she persisted
Voilà, Monsieur je habite près
du Bois de Bologne, il est minuit! '
La ville des lumières, ah, magnifique!

Who cares, he thought, while looking down
onto the grandest ville, the city of the lights,
if you live near the Bois de Bologne,
and what on earth gives you the right
to bother me, and be up here at minuit?

The spell was cast, the innocence of youth
had carefully removed the ugly bat
from his insides and he was led
by happy hands, down to the lobby,
the foyer, where one could be a child
again and buy from the kiosk, un chocolat.