Erwin

Mr Erwin will come late in the

Afternoon

And prime the wall to our bedsitter

The front wall

Where black mold had started

To infest itself in a niche above

The entrance door

In spite of Mrs B’s efforts to

Ventilate the room most of

The day when traffic is lower

But the lack of cross-ventilation

Made the mold thrive and thereby

Endanger our health.

The landlord expressed indifference

Surely he stated having painted

The flat at handover

Indeed! Cheap builder’s paint

In a high humidity climate

That has not been our preferred

Choice of home

But by default

Due to ignorance and greed.

Erwin the handyman in this enclave

Of four occupied flats of five.

He knows the hopeless situation

Where tenants are merely cash cows

And humanity has been left

Bleeding on Main Street

Run over by an endless chain of

Diesel trucks

Buses

And private vehicles.

Erwin.niwrE

 

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry ’18.

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