The Expelled Farmer (Parody) Poem by Gert Strydom

(with apologies to fanie olivier)

At five to eleven there is thunder slamming down outside,
the winter chill is already cutting through his body.

Now in the folds of the bed he draws the blanket tightly
and look somewhat clinical at how it is flashing outside.

From above everything is washed neatly clean,
there is darkness covering the blue,
while like last night, he does not trust the peace,
being alone in his double bed.

He remembers how it had been
at the farm near to Pongola,
now with stripped grass, overgrazed, used far too much,
with shabby pineapples and he is fed-up,
has had too much of broken houses and poles,
of the joblessness with which the government
is trampling over white people.
The rain flows while he smells new life,
his county is being run into the ground.


[Reference: “retoer” “return trip” by fanie olivier.]