the english lesson -- Poetry With Vision

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Date Posted: 03:35:07 04/02/01 Mon
Author: jan oskar hansen
Subject: the english lesson

The English Lesson.

It took me a while to find the house in Hanover street where a resting actress was going to teach me English.
The building had the air of noble decay and a lift operator, a retired admiral, who was in the habit of sleeping in his uniform. I waited in a dark panelled room full of pictures of, once, famous British
Matinee idols, they all smiled as they just had, had
A bath and a change of underwear. My teacher, in her late forties, came she was dressed in a freshly stained white blouse, long black skirt and solid walking shoes with heels that needed a visit to a cobbler. She had
The lips of a tart and the eyes of a bewildered nun who had been seduced by a plumber and when she opened her mouth and spoke posh English, very loudly, I sensed an aroma of whisky and peppermint. "The best way to learn English is to read Shakespeare," she said and handed me a few sheets of paper. "You're Romeo and I'm Juliet" She spoke her lines beautifully, while I mumbled mine. "Louder, louder," she shouted and I did till the man in the next room who, was training to be an opera singer, stopped singing and my voice
Escaped through an open window, hit a passing cab, rolled into the gutter mingled with greasy chippy
Papers and cigarette butts. When the lesson was over
She whispered conspiratorially that she always spent her days off in Southport, kissed me warmly till she felt a stirring, then shushed me out� I wanted to go back next week, but didn't have the courage, beside
I was married at the time.

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