THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM by David Erdos - Poem 9 from THE PEOPLES PRISON
Poem 9 from THE PEOPLES PRISON
AITCH AND ACHE Or, The Poem About The Poem
Sometimes a
week’s work is all about the one poem
On November
the 25th I wrote something
At the end of
the night, my soul saved
By honouring a
special hero of mine
And the ideal
love that informed him.
The next day I
rode from Hillingdon
On a Coronic
bus for two hours, to Holland Park,
Delivering it
to his widow, who later emailed
To tell me
that she would ‘read it to the autumn air’
At his grave.
I wrote other things. Always do,
But this was
the moment that mattered
A woman now in
her eighties, reading my still hopeful
Words to the
dead. And reliving the love that I
Can still only
dream of. For if we are the long
Separated then
there still remain calls for closeness
And embraces
to chase in far beds. There will also
Be kisses to
come, set to occur beyond breathing
Such as the
ones I still savour from someone
Who clearly
prefers to forget. But today I think
Of their love
and of how survival’s bones
Bind a
marriage. From such solitude I have
Touched them.
And on a cold day in London
Found a warmth
of some sort beside death.
David Erdos, November 27th 2020
![]() |
David Erdos |
Comments
Post a Comment