SOLILOQUY FOR THE OLD CREW
July 8, 2022
by MW Bewick
Southwesterly mix of cyclic downturns,
how they play on minds when the kids have left
citing mental health. Customary ways
of speaking scrape a dry channel, old
legacies, how it all became stagnant
beyond decades of self-expanding growth.
It’s said the global scale, commodity
fetishes, relocated factory floors
of low-wage economies, the chasm
of industry’s late-made off-setting gains
as contrary life, speeding but slowing,
growing but compressed, bends down on scabbed knees.
And time is a speculative venture,
promises re-cast loose between lovers,
bursting bubbles, catalogues of crashes,
jobless recoveries, grand recessions.
The central banks of fauna have pulled up
the blankets, the gaze anaemic and all
abdicated duties to no avail.
They’re laying the stakes is what they’ll all say,
advising caution, tactics, micro-trends
of late capitalism, post-Fordism,
cognitive dissonance, a new Third Way.
They are earnest on the face of it, quick –
draw attention – a sketch of parables
and open-ended audits of footnotes
wafting our way, or out, with swell voices
booming at the lost, the busted, silenced.
MW Bewick lives in Essex, England, and is the co-founder of Dunlin Press. Recent collections include The Zircon Ferries (Beir Bua Press) and The End of Music (Black Light Engine Room). He works as a journalist and editor and from time to time as a creative writing lecturer. He occasionally makes music and mostly wears black.