Strong and stalwart stands the groom
on the very edge of that charmed circle
outside, clouds are mustering to kick up a storm,
and official silence is
dispelled by the raucous cry of an African ibis,
launching itself aerodynamically from
the tip of a treetop.
Further outside the circle of
I believe there are still vestiges of
that former realm
where sleek predators, nuanced in
the aesthetics of death
are in the habit of tearing raw strips of
each other with
To dream of weddings
is to invite death, to
summon disaster as
guest of honour.
The apologists of Nature, strong in
shout from the rooftops: `this
is the truth of how
we were meant to live’.
The bride, on the verge of her procession,
are solvents for wickedness, palliatives
that all in good time
will out in the wash.
Her dress a sheathe of ivory
this is no place for
that from altar to bed to grave is
the measure of every man,
divides human mind from
the brain of a cockroach
scampering across the kitchen floor in vital pursuit
of something no doubt so fundamental to
its peculiar worldview
(she regrets waiting to clean until late morning-after).
a wolf told her husband, in a dream
lost to posterity,
how its sensor-enriched snout
can sniff out corruption
in the holiest icon
and how its
can solicit fellow feeling from
an implacable demon.
Outside the sky
seems totally forgiving of love’s small dishonesties
and in a flash
had framed the
vivid portrait of a single, exceptional,
throwing the tableau into such huge high relief
free of the meddlesomeness of
words. Likewise clinginess.
Excerpt From: Garside, Damian. “Zero Gravity.” Xlibris, 2014-02-10.