Notes About The Poem
My cousin's nickname was 'Choppie' and he did have a mini tractor; and he lived in Groblersdal near Loskop Dam, South Africa. The rest is fiction - although my uncle did grow tobacco. Voetsak is a very rude way of saying go away. Nartjies (naarchies) are easy peel tangerines. A muisvoel is a pest bird that ruins fruit trees - my uncle liked us two boys to shoot them with our little air rifles. We hunted rats too. Ah those lowveld farm summers when I was a kid.
OF CHOPPIE AND POPPIE
On his little growling tractor, he drove between the wheat;
with a straw hat on his mullet head and the pedals at his feet.
A shiny red John Deer - perfect-sized for such a boy
with a clanking diesel engine - this was more than just a toy.
And slung across his cotton back, his airgun seemed to aim
at the bright blue lowveld sky - and ‘Choppie’ was his name.
He crossed into the tobacco of Van Niekerk’s farm next door.
He passed their old iron windmill, then their barn and tin feedstore.
She was waiting by the naartjies, several peels by her bare feet,
with her doll across her knees and an oil can for a seat;
He cut the engine, smiling. ‘How’s it going, dear Poppie?’
She tossed her corn-silk hair. ‘Voetsak, chip-tooth Choppie!’
Her skin was caramel; she had freckles across her cheeks;
Her nose was small, her eyes were green as the moss where the farm tank leaks.
‘What can I do for you, my sweet, to show my love today?’
‘Either shoot me a dozen muisvoëls or drive yourself away.’
So he took his little rifle, and soon its sound was heard
as he hunted through the orchard for the small grey-crested bird.
But when the job was done, and he delivered the bodies to miss,
she refused to even count them and he didn’t get his kiss.
‘Kill ten rats from the barn, and then we’ll hold hands, Choppie.’
As soon as said, he went to shoot a sack of rats for Poppie.
She said, ‘I’ve changed my mind. Your hunting’s not enough.
Dead birds and rats are rubbish; and a girl wants shiny stuff.’
She then looked past his shoulder at his beautiful machine
with its tall black knobbly tires and its candy-apple gleam.
‘Give me your nice red tractor and you can kiss me on the cheek
and dance with me at the festival near Loskop Dam next week.’
Now setting the price too high and playing too hard to get
will leave you lonely on a can and feeling some regret.
For there are many farms in Groblersdal - and girls who know the way.
A boy who shoots for love will live to woo another day.
So Choppie drove to Meisie’s house to see if he could attract her;
while Poppie learned you cannot take the farmer from his tractor.
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