Adrian Flett

Grafted In - Poem by Adrian Flett

(Tatham Art Gallery Gardens)

While just a boy
I ran and played:
ate phutu from the pot.
Schools in village and city
took all that away.

Don't call me alien as you
sit haunched now
on winter worn grass
amid raucous, joyous game
I long to learn.

Shepstone's statute,
cast in concrete,
stands on colonial plinth;
surveys the city and your mirth
while mynahs and pigeons
sit and shit in healthy disregard
for imperial image.

Gone forever now
the precast ideas
as grafted in I sit
sidelined and watch.

Topic(s) of this poem: culture, political humor

Form: Narrative

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Poem Edited: Monday, June 25, 2018

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