the other day I found myself in ’n eetplek
that I won’t name
in a dorpie
with an English name
and
a big fucker starts giving me the eye

oh, it was worse when I had long beautiful golden locks touching the shoulders
now my head is shaved and I can look a bit demented if the light is right

“wat doen jy hier, engelsman?”
he says

adept at identifying a non-citizen in his area

I pirouette and offer my open hand
“aangename tennis-biscuits, I may not look like you or speak like you,
but we are connected brother.”

the guinea fowls (middle aged Afrikaner woman)
bend their necks to attention
I have hit front page of the local gossip paper
and the big fuck is the editor

built like a buffalo on top of another buffalo
his last meal must have been months ago
and now he could smell fun
with this engelsman

I never did particularly enjoy getting a snotklap
a young rooinek like me
pre 1994
would catch one
just because

but times have changed
as they do
and Afrikaners don’t use the term rooinek as much as they used to

the loss of power
has many hiding/preparing
for ‘die swart gevaar’
and the attention has shifted
from fucking with the ‘rooinek’
to paranoid imminent revenge of the ‘pink foot’

so I’m stood there about to get demolished
because of my ancestors
when I feel a wind of change
waft in from behind me
(not from my behind
but
from behind me)

an affluent black man walks in
uh
most likely lost
on his way through to general acceptance

the bent necked guinea fowls rhubarb their necks even further
the place comes to a standstill
fear factor news has hit the headlines
and I have just regressed off the cover page

hating an engelsman is fun
hating a black man is essential
depending on where you are in this country
not much has changed

the black man stands tall
unaware of the hierarchy in this dorp
he simply wants directions out of here

I can see buffalo
wants to make him aware of the rules
and that is when two alpha males
begin the ancient practise of puffing their chests

I realise this is my opportunity to bugger off
all I need do
is side step
turn step
back step
and exit
instead
I side step
and march like a boss
touching myself
toward the counter
for earlier
whilst scanning the faces of all the guinea’s
I noticed one tight guinea fowl at the counter
waiting to pay her bill

I slap down a hundred madiba’s on the counter
take the hand of this bird
and we glide past the inflating alpha’s

I do enjoy causing kak
but am not interested in gossip
and if you understand what someone hates
their fear will do the rest of the work

I stand outside
refreshed
with a touch of trouble by my side
all khaki tightly pressed
this farmers daughter
with perky tits and lazy eyes
has me
we gaze at the vicious twilight sky
where
in November
thousands of lesser kestrels
make the journey from Siberia
to roost through
and hunt for pleasure in the Karoo