Shaken But Not Stirred Poem by Gert Strydom

It was at the Pretoria show
that we went on a ride
on a roller coaster
with a spinning wheel
and Heinrich and I
got into one car.

There was a steel bar
that should lock shut
and when we pulled away
it did not.

We took the big loop
and another one
and the bar flew open
and both of us
almost flew out

and from then on
it was a nightmare ride
and I caught the six year old
with my left arm
and pressed him to me
and with the right
I hang on
to the bar
that went up and down.

The earth was flying past
at a great speed
and we almost were crushed
but I hang on
and luck was there
and no poems saved me,
maybe it was a terrified prayer
that gave me the power
to keep hanging on
while we flew like superman
and his son
and went up and down.

The boy screamed
first with terror
and then by the enjoyment
of the adrenaline
and I clung to that bar
and saw only a blur
and heard the croaking
of that big machine
and I hung on
reliving parachute jumps
in my mind.

Flying on the wind
until the machine
slowed down
to a crawling pace
and we got out
totally shaken
but not really stirred
and the boy said:
“Dad, can we do it again? ”