He Is The Owner Of A Farm Poem by Daleen Enslinstrydom

He walks into the pub
in his best suit with his fedora on his head
and with a loud voice very politely
greets everybody and takes his place
on a bar stool.

He is almost comical and small
but with a drink in his hand
he becomes as tall as a giant
and with his hand in the air
he toasts his good fortune
and draws attention to himself

and soon he has got a following
and curious they listen to his joyful story
as he brags about the dozen cows
that he had bought at the action today

and that he had just received
payment for last year’s maize harvest
and has just bought tractors and farming implements
for his farm that is just over the hill.

He rolls up his sleeves
and boast about the corn cups
as large as the distance
from his hand to his elbow

and his pumpkins was the largest in the country
and he has just won first prize for their size
and he tells everybody about his mansion on the hill
and brags about his racing horses,
his sheep in the field,
about his champion Brahman bull
that he hires out on stud

and he talks about the hill
and the river and waterfall
on his property

but in life he has only got one great problem
and would have shown everybody everything
but his wife is the most terrible and terrifying
person that have ever existed
and she runs the farm with an iron hand
and that is why he is finding some comfort
right there in the tavern.

On the way home he makes sure
that no one is noticing him
and in the darkness
he finds his way back
to the house that he rents
from the mine

and he takes off his suit and fedora
and dresses in his overalls
before he makes his way to the bed
where his wife is sleeping
and he thinks to himself
that he was a great farmer today,
even though it only was in the bar.