Normal Day Poem by Martin Lochner

Marching in with heraldic flags of Stallions

68 virgin men entering the shadow land of

the cape flats


untested troops with shivering spines and

and polished batons


Commissioned to contain the barbaric world

of the desperate


to protect a 350 million rand investment

of a glossy enamelled mall of buying desire


keeping a visible line of admittance for those

that quenched their lust with credit or cash


drawing the muscle border of private property

keeping out the rabble and those with dodgy eyes


me a mere soldier, captain of discipline knew no

economic motivation or feelings of the missionary

keeping to the principles of war and conduct

of armed forces, only offering the sharp end of the sword.



Halting the hungry, desolate loitering beggars

Cuffing thieves, pick pockets and robbers



Hunting down hijackers and subduing

the anger of gangster attacks.

Business was booming with a million feet a month

treading the beauty of the Promenade.



The virgin men became broken as a pair of trampled

Shoes, creased with lines and sun burst broken faces.



Gunshot wounds

Knife stabs

White knuckle assaults



Losing allot of epaulettes under those white bloodied broad sheets

Lying quite still and booking them absconded till Armageddon



End of business and a collection of twenty company issued shirts

discarding the days one, splattered with the testimony of a hard day



before leaving visiting the prison and hearing out of that harvest the thundering

moans of despair and remorse.



I arrive at home and wish for the welcoming embrace of wife and

Child

“How was work today “my wife would ask

I would say “just a normal day, no incidents “