POETRY                                                                                               (Copyright - Pierre du Toit)
                                    ...................................................................................................................................................................
 
                                              

                            De Koker

                            De Koker was a simple guy
                            (he cut my knee one day
                            with a knife
                            in mindless play
                            when we were children)
                            he never read
                            (his eyes were grey
                            and dull, like the scheme house           
                            where he lived)
                            his mother was never there
                            his father
                            was - away, at least
                            I don't remember either
                            I don't recall much morehttp://www.mylensandi.com
                            (a plastic checkered table cloth?)
                            but that's the point
                            de Koker simply was
                            in childhood
                            like a cockroach
                            happened to be there
                            (I told a lie
                            about the knife
                            someting told me then
                            he hadn't meant to)
                            after that de Koker faded thoughjohannesburg_1980_large.html
                            not quite, still there
                            like one you cannot see
                            and do not think about
                            but know subconsciously
                            is there
                            in some damp corner
                            or below the sink
                            (I've never seen one sleep,
                            that is,
                            I've never seen a cockroachhttp://www.mylensandi.com
                            with a father)
                            until one day I heard
                            de Koker
                            (they never seek the spray -
                            they always try to get away)
                            had thrown himself against a trainjohannesburg_1980_large.html

                                                                                  
 (See photograph at PeopleSA / Album 007 #7 )
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