The Immigrant In The Room - And On The Street

by David Erdos

It seems quiet here now, and yet Uxbridge neighbours Hounslow,
As do other strained suburbs in other cities near, other towns

As the Anti-Immigration lobby extend their hate filled rooms
To chase pavements, not as Duffy did, but as the animals

From Fear’s circus, who will roar and bite beside clowns.
Not that fear is the key, for what has been unlocked of late

Is hate heated; British racism bridling under the swampland
The sun has enduced, and which cannot be cooled by the rain

When it has come to wash over, or soothe the savage brow,
Or breast, for what’s savage cannot ever be quelled, or reduced.

The world has gone mad. We are the end of ecstasy generation.
Where once they danced in the 80s, these 20s and this Century

Has been corrupted, convinced and completely conquered,
By Ignorance only, as we fell for fools as false idols and have come

To embrace bigotry. I call for hope every day and it even basslines
These poems. And these poems are warnings, declarations too,

From the Ring, as I as failed Ringmaster attempt to put all ducks
In row, despite lions, and where high wire above us, we can all look

To the net kept below. But as with all nets, the holes just get wider
And wider. The Far Right hand side edges closer and the left is itself

Compromised. As we witness attacks from the U4, or 222 bus,
Daily, heat stoking horror, or ruin through rain realized.

As the English feel threatened again, because some ugly thug
Prods them, grimacing gladly, much like the clown courting jeers

As he stumbles and slips, sliding easily into violence,
Which we are seeing now, while cowed lions, and the Elephants,
Hidden are mistreated madly and the truth of abuse claims
Their cheers. Countries collapse and each crack sends its spilt

Victims swimming. They circle the globe seeking refuge
And the humanity Christians preach. And we say we pride

Ourselves on that here, but Brexit alone fanned that fire,
And the backfire rages as Clonakilty black pudding is nowhere

To be seen. Food needs teach. But now the thick coalesce
Into a hateful mob, two miles distant. As they do now in all places

Google trouble’s map and you’ll see; how the Metropolitan day
Holds no Jubilee. It just circles back on itself, damning Districts

As the Central line of connection is cut at once by grown
Children; the kind who disgust me as they stamp and kick

At birds, happily. The Elephants in the Circus are trapped
Wherever they go. No-one’s welcome. I rue the days we have

Fashioned and the ways we retract decency. Everywhere looks
The same. It just has a different branch of Costa. And just like

The London Riots some years back, the planning of this makes
One see how the grand and holy cull now will come.

It isn’t about whether we can avoid it now, or deserve it; we do.
But surviving and uniting as one against this is practically

The only aim, were not for the others. By which I mean aspects,
Not those we should help, or assist in finding a home ,be it

For themselves, or with others. Israel’s murder of Haniyeh
As a singular now act illustrates that we have hallowed out

The notion of Homeland as both idea and location. If anyone’s
God is there, Its disgusted by love’s rejection in favour of this

New lust for hate. Centralise in new ways if you can. These days
The Middle of the Road feels like Heaven. But the roads are ripped
And around us the Circus tent has been torn. Ignorance manifests.
The Clowns are as they were in Moore and Bolland’s Killing Joke.

Clowns are crazy. Can you hear their laugh? Its like screaming.
And now each visceral night makes walks porn. We do not have

The will to consider anyone else inches from us. If I am wrong
I am ready to eat your shoes and each hat. We live in a land stained

And smeared by Suella Braverman and Unpriti Patel, shrill before her.
Let’s hope that Rachel Reeves heals us as she hardens now,

Each vowel flat. For we need fresh new ground and not
The strange streets we’re repainting with blood and anger;

With this lack of foresight, should it go on, we are blind.
The stunned lions stare, as the exotic elephants seek each shadow.

How does one rip through racists? How do we break the bind?
With which each new despot damns, be it Netanyahu, or Putin?

Or, whoevers out there, between Hillingdon here and ín Hayes?
It will be the ultimate ask. But the task is how on Earth

To tame suspicion and hatred. And how, having wasted whatever
God gave we can save something good, something true,

If not for us then those children who may not live to outlive us.
Will there be another American Civil War come November?

This week in London, and now tonight there’s the wave
That Noah first saw, and then the Dinosaurs before freezing.

Break down your borders. We are all in this air.
Share your cave.