TEARING (OR TEARING) THE GATES OF THE CAGE

TEARING (OR TEARING) THE GATES OF THE CAGE

An argument starts as a group of friends test the weather

And private fears become public and an approaching cold

Achieves taste. How do we personalise our world view,

When we have each received the same slither, through either

Window or laptop, iPhone screen, eyebrows raised?

What have we lived through; exile? Or something premeditated?

One friend reads of Manson and the tendrils and depths of

That crime. Thoughts of collusion spiral, as others consider

This climate: has there been a design within protest to crease

And corrupt current times? Certainly, as we lope along,

One thing falls on another, as Cummings slipped back

Under the stone, a new dark side of the moon and sun

Sought us due to a very different Floyd, who quickly became

A world band and a grand new uprising, which while

Sparking honour, exposed some of the lies they’ve employed.

For lies line the streets. Such as that American Cop smashing

Windows. Or the simple fact that our social distance will be

Impossible to now quantify. Did we need it at all? Or at least

To the extent that they told us. As the rule of three kept us

Brainwashed, will we now be able to see what will soon

Cloud our eyes? And why did the clapping finish last week?

Or, have people stopped dying? Apparently the death rate

Here is the highest, despite us being two weeks behind.

This timing phrase bothers me. Does Virus truly stick to

A schedule? It takes planes two hours to get from Europe

To here, without signs. So, do germs take a route, or wait

As they have said, within people? What is in the air now,

I wonder, apart from the template for some form of

Apocalyptic design? Green clouds of flu, or Covid blue,

Sharp and ice-like, piercing us as we’re waiting, and either

God sent to show disappointment, or trained to find us,

Sanctioned and perhaps weaponised. The Government

Are doing what they can one friend says. Another (me)

And then others, too, disabuse this; every government

Throughout this has struggled, but it is the sensibility

Shown that appals. While they have started tearing

The cages in which we have been kept, there’s been

Crying; tears of loneliness and abandon, frustration

And fear, hope’s last call. While some can’t quite leave,

As the Lockdown provided real comfort. Forced

To retreat the moles furrow, as the furlough falls,

Rabbits run. Doubtless many embryos have begun

But what sort of genes are engendered? Those of

The folded, awaiting command, or those spun?

Whipped and whirled by events into fresh forms

Of action, some of which may prove violent,

And some of which through staying tame,

May disturb. Where will the open cage leave us,

Then, with friends and reality so uncertain,

At a time in which the New Normal, which is such

A bastard phrase becomes verb. Not even questions

Work now, as nobody knows the full answer.

You certainly can’t conclude in one poem 

What each person’s novel and news does to them.

So, we just fragment, like events and cling to the cage

That’s made for us. Sometimes the bars beat us,

Sometimes the air itself seeks our end. We will not

Be as we were. There will be a new strain within us.

A quite different virus, that will sit in us all, far,

And close. It will be a form of suspicion, in shades

Through we will never find a full comfort. Just,

Perhaps its illusion, as those who lead distance

From us and love gains a shadow, dimming each

Small thing you prized most. For there has been

More to this than just death. More to this than

Confinement. From the flesh that’s pressed,

W(h)ine is flowing. From our grapes and wrath,

Bitter toasts?

David Erdos, June 13th 2020

For more poems from David Erdos visit The Corona Diaries collection 

David Erdos is an actor, writer, director with over 300 professional credits. He is a published poet, playwright, essayist and illustrator. He has lectured on all disciplines in theatre and film for leading performing arts colleges, schools and universities around the world. His books include EASY VERSES FOR DIFFICULT TIMES, THE SCAR ON THE CLOUD, OIL ON SILVER, NEWS FROM MARS, CHANGING PLACES WITH LIGHT (penniless press) and BYZANTIUM with the photographer Max Reeves. He is a contributing editor for The International Times and maker of documentaries all over the world. David’s work has been acclaimed by many leading figures including Harold Pinter, Heathcote Williams, Alan Moore, Andrew Kotting, Chris Petit and Iain Sinclair in whose recent book THE LAST LONDON, David features. He can be reached at David.erdos@sky.com.

David Erdos

©    David Erdos has asserted his moral rights as author of his work and has full copyright.