Damian Garside

GLOW

walked into the Cafe

fish in the tank
had an unearthly glow

no one else seemed
any the wiser

seems it is
the privilege of being born
twelfth sign
to read this text
devise the code

and see with eyes
pure Old Testament

but as we
enter this establishment
scan, reconnoitre,

see this bunch of executive media
types crunched around a table
talking District 9
or possibility of TV follow up
with talent competition and
fun rides

I could pitch them my talent show
all of them
contestants, nobody survives

and the fish trying to sell me something could it
be a (fish)fingerprint of the gods tale of
Antarctica hiding
Atlantis

love these lost cities when feel lost
in the city, lost in my own mind

should write an alternate history in which
my ex-wife led a revolution sending me
and my kind South
to Antarctica

where
there are alien space bases, lunatic
fringe has it

me and
my kind I do not have a “kind”

milk of
human kindness milk of my galaxy

spiral nebula in my coffee could be Andromeda

hurtling towards us
take billions of years to get here,

Greek mythology certified, sweet extinction on its way

I know
you know
I glow
you glow

twin slit experiment you wave me away

DROOLING

the gargoyles are drooling
at the prospect
of their emancipation

entombed in stone
now they are
to be resurrected,
thrown upon the world
monstrously released

for the demons they were
meant to
protect us all,
the simple faithful

are amongst us, 24/7
and in the current electronic
maelstrom we swirl in

impossible to tell
what
is limbo
what is
Hell

sane to
have given up
on bliss
and joy
and glimpse of Heaven

TIME WAS

Gary
is out
of step

time was
he used
to dance
around
defenders

but not these
defenders
gatekeepers
of the realm

nothing
gets past them

he shall not
pass or dribble
through them

the refs have given them
absolute right
to hack him down.

ONE ONE

Gary has scored!
Gary has equalized against
this team from the thirties
he spun, hit his shot and
it went in on
the rebound after
taking a deflection

but now they say
he should stick to
punditry, stick
to scoffing crisps

and they want the goal
disallowed, they demand
a recount
insist there must
be a referendum
on the decision from VAR

so Gary’s goal will be disallowed
and what sinks must carry on sinking
there are wave machines
to sort this out
and full fan hatred
shouting singing.

BUNTING

bunting
misses symbolism
it paints it
national colours

and toothless voice
though it slurps
its consonants
whistles its vowels

swears shouts
roars curses loudest

FLAGPOLE

when Empires sink
best climb up and
cling to the flagpole

enjoy
those dying moments
watching the lesser
people drown

JOINT

join me
we going to walk backwards
to the beginning of time

our book of cosmology
before us to guide us

make sure we avoid
possible supernovas
certain blackholes
neutron stars, flares
and explosive
gamma bursts

holding hands in
the starlight, the future receding
and then —

such celebration
when we arrive
at our destination
positively ticking from
all that
background radiation

every moment on our travels
helping to meld our two minds

CAREFUL

be careful
what you
do with

how you read
how you treat
this poem

avoid all risk of
contamination

shield
with tin foil
or with
concrete shell
containing
a lead-
lined box

the energy at the heart
of this poem
simply following
Einstein’s
equation
could split your
every atom

radiate
the Hell out of
you

INTEGRITY

you are a voice
you proclaim it
to be so

standing before an
empty canvas

staring
into space

I read the guide
it tells me
the title of
this piece
is, if I read
it right, “Whatever”

I would like to smirk
but fear aesthetes
might stone me

missed that semester course
on dead surrealism
was spending
much of that time
feeling and
looking vacant

imagining a world where
there was no Spanish Civil War
ergo
no International Brigade
no Picasso Guernica

maybe the Universe sometimes
takes poetic license

could it be
that we are all long-passed
and this is all a De Chirico,
Dali-esque forever recycled
state
of dreaming?

who knows how to
find the truth, get
to the bottom
of this matter

what is it with truth
anyway?
always looks
feels so suspect

as is the case with all these
either-or binaries

damned if you do
damned if you don’t

see you added your own little
postscript to that non-painting
destroying
its artistic integrity

Sent from my iPhone

CONSTELLATION

assuming the feral position
in the loadshed dark
on my bed
with a dying cat
my
beautiful dying cat

I cannot wait for two
weeks to pass and I hit
what just has to be
my final birthday

don’t give me
rebirth
I would be
kicking and screaming against
the very thought
of consciousness
possibility
of coming back

not to be u grateful
not to disrespect life, that
sacred most
magical
of things

but thanks but
no thanks

leave me be for that trillion years
until the Universe is a dead weight
of iron and
burnt out coal

and the last civilizations who had
their faith who had their dream
are
long long gone

maybe
like us they had their astrology
astronomy cosmology

their genius mettle.
born under
the constellation
which loosely
translates as the dying cat