Mej. Zelle

Mej. Zelle

In youth I was your basic overweight Dutch frump,
As at the end I was. Between, the quantum jump

To Mata Hari, ethnic artist dancing nude
Before Crowned Heads, if not the Asian multitude

That would know bump-and-grinding when they saw it. Spy?
Well, maybe. Such few secrets as I could supply

I hardly understood. But faced with firing squad
I was as firm as Nurse Cavell. A simple nod

That signals one is ready; and the blindfold off,
To serve as scarf, inhibit any final cough.

Once dead, I enter into glamour. Who can see
A Garbo playing starchy Edith and not me?

And if I danced enticing, Indo-Minsky scenes,
They were my income. Nurse Cavell had private means.

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