You
who assume I’ll laugh at your slightly racist joke
(which isn’t even funny)
and expect me to agree that the country is going to the dogs
(because you believe incompetence and corruption come only in black)

I’m not like you

You who sway from side to side with a vierkleur flag around your shoulders
singing De la Rey De la Rey with religious fervour

or wear T-shirts with the slogan
praat Afrikaans of hou jou bek

I don’t like you

And you who talk about protecting
and supporting
our language
our culture
‘our people’

I am not your people

Yet
because my ancestors arrived in Cape Town three centuries ago
and I have a surname that can’t be pronounced in English
because of the pale freckledness of my skin
the accent I speak with
the language I dream in

because language (by association)
becomes a culture of Reitz four khaki pants 7de Laan bokkie rokkie sokkie music

like a gangrene limb I can’t amputate

suddenly

I am you