Saturday 7 March 2020

Definitions of a crisis


Swim out now into that blue/azure sea,
you're either a tourist or a refugee –
where you were born is everything
or nothing if you happened to be born
in places where such things don’t matter.

I have a passport: it’s changing colour
even as we speak. And the headlines bark
like stray dogs, like rabid warnings
of what we’re expected to believe –
and the easy allocations of blame.

Somewhere over the city clouds form,
but the mountain adopts autumnal promise –
completely out of season –
which is what this man crossing the road dismisses.

March 2020




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