Damian Garside

NOW YOU DON’T

I was thinking of
the lucidity of a winter haiku

waiting
for the season to change

but the Earth
changed the seasons

the weather cataclysmic
and haiku
and let it be said

the writers of haiku
all disappeared

found myself in a Wes Anderson world
my house full of things in
bright pastel colours
I bought on line

felt I needed
a radical change of
landscape and how
that landscape insists
that I best deport myself

so
   said a charm
of transformation
   asking for a science
fiction horror scenario
scripted by HP Lovecraft,
artwork
    by HR Giger

and waited to die of
sheer fear
or survive to enjoy
the ride

I have copies
occur
in many different forms

have more than three
dimensions

I write write write write
if only to prove
that I myself
am an inscription

catch my drift
get my gist
go with my flow

              even as
a greater flow, deeper drift
quintessential gist
                      is what
life
    has me follow
     dictates here

this is what I grasp
all that I have grasped
from that recitation

practically everything I need
to write, and learn, and be.