A Poem by Tim Wells

Fight Scenes from a Lockdown

The first day
in the lengthening queue
at Morrisons
an old Irish feller behind me
got called a ‘fekkin cont’
by his wife
because he couldn’t find
the long life milk.
I knew then
we were in it for the long haul.

The days stretched
like liabilities.
I wondered
if we’d run out
of black-and-white films.
The toilet paper held
but there was always
the ‘what if?’
When summer came,
we saw it through the window.

The city quieted,
birds raised their game.
Weekly we clapped
all those who cared.
I heard who we’d lost
daily at the bakery buying
a beigel and doughnut.
There’s a hole in life.
There was a government.
There was no government.

Tim Wells is made of reggae, lager top, pie and mash, and Leyton Orient FC. His publications include No Weakeners and his Unbound project Shine On Me.