I was strolling up from
Truth Café at Buitenkaant street
Still somewhat thirsty I ran in to
a Cape Town Hair Cut Saloon
A sweeteyed shy girl from Zimbabwe
smoothly served me a facial
You need it, it’s humid they said
Well done she handed over my caucasian skull
to a feisty oneeyed man
from Zanzibar
Summerly short I said
will do he rejoiced, it’s hot
Contemplating images of sea adventures I strayed
A little boy stood beside and told me,
you look nice
Getting to my senses in the lure of the heat
and my own inner thoughts
I settled for the outcome
I am now, at last, a vision
of the balkan brute
The image path
my father and ‘is brother paved
That’s ethno chic for you
/ Boris Zetterlund
Boris Zetterlund 