Morning Walk (Parody) Poem by Gert Strydom

Full of revenge the animal started walking,
while the wind jerked off curtains down the street
blowing wildly behind clouds of fog,
passing the supermarket, where trolleys stick out
like always bunched together.
Passing tractors, with a lost tooth, going round a drum,
shy, she sneaks past rubble, tin shacks
that is stripped, past a tower next to the street;
a female dog that morning is walking
with twisted teeth.

And in her territory she gradually got loose, became dog again,
crossing the streets without a chain, going right through a fence,
where she walks into a direction without an owner, playing with butterflies
that are hopping up and down to find nectar or are turning above the lettuce;
she pauses, with the smell of meat that drives her on,
while she is half blinded.

Oh, the gnashing and a clatter when the wind
rips curtains off at houses down the street,
capsizing something against a car,
blowing beds and bricks, exposing poverty
at every shack.

She walks inquisitive
over rags, intestines and rubbish bags
that are stringed together,

inquisitive up to the street,
running over the road full of uniforms,
whining with aching teeth,

the wind flies up full of fester
when she shakes her big head -

at this place
the wind is contained

forever.


(With apologies to Louis Esterhuizen/Reference: “Oggendwandeling” (Morning walk) by Louis Esterhuizen.)