Submitted for the Geist Erasure contest 2013.
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Era
The air mills are closed and breaking
.
Rob’s wet cough
.
His body’s not ready
,
it’s killing him
,
before the’ll grant relief
.
It took a long time before we asked
.
We waited till we got used to sleeping
.
.
Not that everybody just waits
.
Though
,
mostly
,
it’s quiet
,
people are just tired and quiet
.
And you get your air or a bloo
.
Or you go and sit there with hundreds of others
,
daring to get yours
,
there’s lots now that’ve gone
.
in Side
,
they got mad
,
they rioted
.
And here it’s like that too
,
you can feel it in the air
,
that something could go off
,
any minute
.
Sometimes you just see it in the eyes
.
The shop round the corner’s got nothing in it but a couple of empty jars in the window
.
Mary went there with me and wrote her name out to say people don’t help
.
Some do
.
They sent us boxes and bags of air
.
Thousands of barrels
.
That was three months ago
,
in February
,
and most who met the ship had nothing but holey lungs
.
Though others said the money would have been better spent sending us in side
.
Some got together to support the fight
.
.
I don’t much care
,
to tell truth
.
I just want it to end
.
Today it was black
,
.
Today
,
The in came out
.
their inmen – they’ve got it
.
These ones were from Blackburn
,
they had one out on the ground
,
right near the ‘Change
.
Who will rise up for me? Who will stand up for air in?
There was still air to the old man
.
I nodded goodbye and made my way to see my aunt
.
You know
,
she doesn’t have much left
,
just her able
,
But
,
someone
,
I think maybe her son
,
gone up to Kersal Moor
.
And he’d brought back her able
.
Bloooo
.
All delicate and resting there
,
in a pint jar full
.
Excerpt from Exhibit 37 ranch
ages 91-93 of nopolis
shed by Pedlar P 213.
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