by Akim Reinhardt

“In Memory of Franz Klammer”

Franz Klammer soared
down alpine mounts,
His glory assured
by the clock’s count

The lord of Austria,
the king of the hill,
the master of the Alps,
the bringer of thrills

His grace, his speed,
defied laws of nature
His beautiful name
redefined nomenclature

Franz Klammer! Franz Klammer!
you were the best,
sparkling Olympic gold
draped ‘cross your chest.

We shall always remember
how you stormed down the mountains,
and now that you’re gone
we shall always be counting

The hours since you left,
and awaiting the day
when a soothsayer comes
and we all hear him say:

“Look up on the hill,
yonder snowy peak
A young man races hither
Come see him streak

Down the mountain side
like a B-29 bomber
Roaring like thunder,
he looks like dear Klammer!

With the wind in his face,
the mountain in his hands,
such bold, Teutonic grace,
he looks like beloved Franz!”

But alas, I do fear
such a day will not come
during my life
He was the only one

One of a kind
as down the mountains he tread–
What’s that you say?
Franz Klammer’s not dead?

But that must be a mistake,
we visited him just last week
He was rotting at the hospice,
I heard the doctor speak

About the ugly brain tumor
the gangrene and gonorrhea,
the lupus, the scurvy,
the heartburn, the diarrhea

They said he was a gonner
just a matter of time–
What? They let him out ?
He’s going home? He feels fine?!

This is ludicrous! I thought–
No, no! I’m not bitter
But between you and me,
Jean-Claude Killy was better. Read more »