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Conditions of Use

All comments regarding the life and work of Lawrence Durrell are welcome. Say whatever you like, however you like. Comments are not censored, but they reflect the views of the commentator and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the administrator nor anyone else on this blog. All comments are copyrighted and belong to the blog. Fair use of the blog's material requires proper attribution both to the blog and to the commentator.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

David Green's "Crickets in the Dark"

Lawrence Durrell was fond of crickets and cicadas (I'm not sure if he distinguished between the two).  David's fine poem marks the change in sensibilities.  Compare his with Durrell's poetic description at the end of Justine (1957):  "The cicadas are throbbing in the great planes, and the summer Mediterranean lies before me in all its magnetic blueness."  Things have indeed changed.  —  BR

Crickets in the Dark


As the jets scream home
To cross lit air ports
dumping excess fuel over
Huddles homes in the early dark,
As the eco cars, the muscle cars
And all kind of cars and trucks
Entrain for lurching journey home
And the air is rank
with fumes as bad or worse
Than cigarettes,
I see the sky fade slowly
Like watercolour swept
Across a wet page
And the crickets croak
Like earth fired machines;
Two tone engines pumping life
Beneath the ground
As they have always done —
Below climate change,
Beneath the hooves of giants,
Beneath the feet of man,
Beneath cement and car parks,
Beneath the sewers, the wires
The water pipes,
beyond the hum of cars and trucks;
Simpler, older than cockroaches
And we abide while we may.

— David Green