Ingrid Jonker, divine South African poet (1933 - 1965). Tinged
with brilliance and madness. Adored and rejected by two writers, Jack Cope ('tried to fling
himself into her grave'), Andre Brink ('said she drove him mad with love'). She
loved them both 'at the same time'. Mother. 'Sestiger'. Rebellious daughter to
Abraham-the-Nationalist. Fearless. She walked into the moody ocean and was
gone.
day
started
dust
dirt
i don’t like
cleaning
sweeping
dot.
dot. dot.
i
wanna
make
like a poet
a
writer
like
Ingrid
on
the brink
in
the ocean (just down the road)
b
e c a u s e
She
couldn’t cope
with
dirt
the
fuck you
of
every morning
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