THE TEETERING INFERNO by David Erdos - Poem 1 from THE PEOPLES PRISON

 Poem 1 from THE PEOPLES PRISON

THE TEETERING INFERNO

You don’t need me to describe the kind of quagmire

That claims us, as we watch this undemocratic election

In a Republican world corrupt ground. Satire falls, sacked

When the word democracy holds the humour; the killing joke

That divides us and completely obliterates the profound.

 

Now we will have to live in a world where the wise

Will become another species in danger, and where

A pumped up would be despot has both the madness

And gall to command that all voting stops in order

To preserve his delusion; and where there are people

 

Prepared to vote for him and see his as the path to demand.

My blood boils in its veins, which shatter like glass. My skin

Blisters. The sheer affront of it stuns me, as these two fragile

Old men stare it down. For this is the world we have made,

Where no code or call remains sacred and where stark

 

Division and a circus insane finds its clown. The fascistic

Call of fake news is both Hitler and Orwell. A Newspeak

That spikes language and drains each form of sanctity

From the word. Which is worse; Trump using it to forestall

Anything said against him, or our own slick adoption

 

And acceptance of this as a term? You get the Politicians

You deserve. So which of us is left wanting? If Biden wins

Trump will fight him, across each cyber screen and in Court.

The ultimate bad loser, primed for a shootout no doubt

In the Oval, with the Security Detail deciding on whose

 

Carcass to prize or extort. What if Joe Biden dies?

What will Putin allow? China chuckles. If Biden wins,

Binds may tighten, along with secrets that not even

Four years could release. The Trump Towering inferno

Blazes, and with embers stoked  by Ivanka. If her father

 

Wins it’s all over, as decency and truth lose degree.

There will be days of this. Weeks. As fate becomes a farrago,

And wherever we go, or can’t go, Iago’s ghost now returns.

For an Iago figure is there, (or must be) pulling the strings,

Courting chaos and causing the floors and foundations

 

To crumble and teeter, as each school and system

Suddenly forgets how to learn. For there will be nothing

Of sense. And we will all be Desdemoaning; the innocents

Love has murdered, crying out for salvation while this

Superpower – which is what truth is supposed to be

 

Starts to burn. JFK clears his throat, as does MLK, also.

Suddenly the entire world topples. And here, from the fire

The Devil claims Donald as one of his own. God quits, spurned.

                                                        David Erdos, November 4th 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.