Another friend, Philip reports of more
Supermarket suspicion: THAT LOOK,
Traded freely, while gaining more purchase
Now, than the tins. It is the fresh currency
That the poor at heart have been spending,
Signally strange new sensations
As the end of community claims a win.

I saw THAT LOOK spent, as I strolled,
My legs strangely heavy, as if fighting
The welcoming pull of the prison
That has always been my heart’s home.
My lost Mother’s house. I am only glad
She can’t see this. I’d rather her dead
Than divided, with us cut by a screen,

Both alone.

And now we all are, while rationing our cares
And our money. With those who venture out,
Each ignoring the ships of passing day
And stilled shore. We can’t even wave
From the mast, lest we get too close,
Or breathe freely and so we cost and charge
Every moment. As the stopped sea cools,

Silence roars.

It is the Pinteresque pause that powers on,
Ripe with meaning. In his crises of silence,
And his sharply splintered rooms we are found.
I will go out today and catch the same look
As Philip. Someone will cross the street as I dare
Them not to not be safe, but to honour
What still remains common ground.

And which is riven with common sense, too.
For there is still a way to survive while performing
Due caution. Call it a first rehearsal for being,
Or even the former decencies of the day,
Which while being lost, still have a part
To play in us. As we breathe alone, retain distance,
But be at least warm within it.

Consideration grows abstract,

And yet I urge you
To implore them all:

Don’t be stupid.

We can’t afford that.

Not on this April Fools Day.


David Erdos, April 1st 2020
Art: Storm Thorgerson

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