Poem Number Six
I wrote this poem in the Spring merging into the Summer of 2020 when even though it was Spring the weight of the pandemic was becoming apparent.
From the beginning my Mama warned “it’s in the air” and I did not credit this insight
Thinking she was overreacting !
The obsession with cleaning is just a physical reaction in the light of new evidence that the virus is actually airborne
Take care everyone…….
In the time of Covid-19 forced isolation live-in
A howling wind speaks in
whispering threatening tongues.
Mad curls of anguished gusts carry a
heavily weighted sickness, in the air.
An enormity of sadness engulfs the world.
Peeling away established built structures of work patterns and of life routines.
These are replaced with
honeycomb pocket dreams of
how life used to be.
Certainties become ethereal
in upside down living
And, established practices are no longer workable, for fear of infection from other peoples dubious lifestyle habits.
And, public announcements of suspicions of other persons cleanliness
A spring clean of everyday practices is
to be done thoroughly, each second, if
inevitably, humans wish to continue to breathe.
A plate of food is now shunned
for fear of ingesting emissions from
a strangers glands,
A recipe becomes a feared concoction which
could kill a person who harbours a weakened immune system.
And a meal cooked and constructed by a celebrity chef is no longer celebrated
instead, it becomes a plate of a possibly infectious toxic mixture.
Bacteria added through manipulation.
Although, initially honest in its composition and free from corruption.
From precious fertile clean soil, it has travelled to become a
platter of potential poison, unless the celebrated chef and the server
have both worn protective gloves and managed not to shower the sustenance with droplets of the virus from an unmasked mouth and nose.
There is a tremble of emotional roots
that were previously hidden and buried underground.
No longer private and personal
A throbbing sadness in the world erupts.
Solitary mourning has become
open, to the public.
Eyes weep body fluids that are now deemed potentially dangerous substances to others
Community painful stories sweep over throbbing swollen retinas
Tarnished toxic pains, recklessly copulate.
Everyone is touched and simultaneously fearful for their loved ones, for their own friends and families.
People hoard their own practices with their own shopping behind closed doors
Barricade strangers germs from their homes for the sake of living safely in them.
There is no longer innocent trust in immediate neighbours
for fear of contracting infection and death.
Even tears are made up of toxic emissions. And
All we can do is clean, clean and clean again.
Searching and scouring microscopic indentations
As well as maintaining our social distancing
At the same time abdicating our responsibilities for any other infections from creatures which includes even newborns
as every living inhabitant on earth is affected without exception
treated as harbingers of the new pandemic threat to health
While politicians ineffectively make plans
the dying carries on
And, we continue with constantly renewed spring cleaning attempts to
make our closeted environments new and free from the virus.
Elbow butting replaces hugs
Unclinked glasses remain in toasts to each other’s health
And in the absence of a successfully tested vaccine, individual excesses of
new mother’s milk
is hidden and frozen with her own placenta to
safeguard her child as protection from life-threatening germs from a future pandemic.