Josh Cake's Poem

Teesta Review: A Journal of Poetry, Volume 4, Number 1. May 2021. ISSN: 2581-7094



The Ashes

---Josh Cake

 

I – Noting

 

It is Friday.

It is only one p m.

It is forty one degrees.

I am breathing ash.

 

I am the oldest I have ever been, and the youngest I will ever be.

It is the hottest it has ever been, and the coolest it will ever be.

I am breathing ash.

 

This is as good as it will ever be.

I am learning to relish this in hindsight.

 

Some clowns just gave me an award –

they said I did a great job this year,

raising awareness of climate change –

 

I am breathing ash.

Nowhere in the blanket of haze

have I poked the tiniest hole.

 

I wish I had a mask instead of an award

I do not doubt that I deserve a mask.

 

My lungs cough to ask me,

Did you improve your world?

Or just your CV?

 

II – How that happens

 

Two boys bounce out of a doorway,

teenage confidence like ceramic on the sticks of a plate spinner,

the dance precisely as mesmerising as the fall to the floor.

 

They are talking about going to uni next year: their future!

The plates are spinning.

 

One sniffs, Who’s cooking something?

His friend slaps him on the back of the neck.

That’s ash from the bushfires, dickhead.

They’re cooking the planet.

The first boy laughs something that is not a laugh,

a hack to retch up too many bitter pills.

He scoffs, How good's Australia.

The question mark is absent.

The children are on a strict diet of full stops.

 

I remember when I thought my plates would never stop spinning.

As the boys walk on in silence,

I think I have just been shown how that happens.

 

III – Focus

 

Focus on the cricket, says the prime minister.

The ash in my nose helps me to obey,

takes me back a decade to Black Saturday:

charred air, burned sky,

wake early, wear my whites,

my father drives me to the cricket field,

to cross his arms with the other dads and agree,

This is not fair for the children.

Twenty two boys cough our way through forty overs.

 

Focus on the cricket, says the prime minister.

After the first over, both teams stop to agree:

no bowler will bowl fast, no batter will slog high,

because you can’t see a red ball against a red sky.

We are not here to win the Ashes, just to survive them.

 

Focus on the cricket, says the prime minister.

Our coaches used to say that too:

Focus on the cricket

every match, but not today.

Today they tell us:

Look after each other.