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De Waal Venter

@ Sunday Times Books LIVE


Now it is going too fast

It’s a slow day,
lunch is over,
the grownups are napping,
the dry midday heat twisted between their legs.
A toktokkie walks across the bare ground
between two tufts of grass;
I cannot make out whether he is frowning
or just being serious.
The dog scratches his ribs
and pulls a funny face.
Time doesn’t pass,
it’s a slow day.
I wonder whether I
should get myself a glass of gemmerbier,
I don’t want to wake up Ouma.
From the rant a bird shouts,
but the heat squashes his voice
thin and flat.
The toktokkie comes back,
he has probably forgotten something.
The dog sighs  with deep regret;
I think he is sorry
he killed that hare.
It’s a slow day,
maybe it will never pass,
maybe it will.
I close my eyes
and open my eyes.
My life went so fast
I can scarcely remember it.
The sun flits over the sky,
it seems to be driven
by ceaselessly expanding technology.
Nights rush towards me
so fast that they are losing
their darkness.
I’m wondering whether reality
is still under control –
if it ever was.

More poems by De Waal here.


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