The Gulag Village Green

The village green's bandstand and benches are wrapped in black-and-yellow police tape. Joggers and dog walkers are only allowed out twice a day. Schools are closed down. People wear masks and stay separated every time they leave their homes, while others are locked inside buildings. Curfews are in place. Marshals patrol the streets. Cops break up wedding parties. The government encourages people to snitch on their neighbours. And new draconian laws are introduced at the drop of a hat so the police can control everyone more, while the army is on stand-by and the media attempts to incite a race war. Sounds like the blurb for a bad Hollywood movie, right? Well, as we all know, it's actually the reality of 2020. The virus and the lockdowns are here, during a year of censorship, protests and division, and British poet Harry Whitewolf has never felt so conflicted. You see, he cares deeply about people's health, but he also cares deeply about human rights; which seem to have died overnight with hardly anyone protesting against it. And Harry vehemently believes in standing up against racism and transphobia, but he also believes in standing up against the calls for censorship and word-control coming from some in the BLM and trans communities. The right and the left are becoming indistinguishable, capitalism and democracy are crumbling to pave the way for a technocratic future, free speech is dying, people are calling for more and more tyrannical laws to be introduced, mandatory vaccinations are on the way, and Harry's had enough of it all. There's a lot of anger amongst the poems and prose of The Gulag Village Green, but there's also the usual Whitewolf wit, wordplay, and call for peace, amongst a number of other writings on worldly and personal themes.It's time to stop dividing, see through the bullshit, and come out on the other side in a better, more caring, and more loving place, before the village green bunting is permanently replaced with barbed wire.