The Poems of David Garlick
I’m really rather ravishing in my many patterned skin. I like to lie on sunny rocks to let the heat soak in. But just like you I am afraid when I don’t understand; why people tease me with a stick, or grab me with a hand. So though I’d rather slip away, though small, […]
In my house there are rules for spiders. We may come and go as we wish. But if we foolishly wander the flag stones; underfoot, we may end up as squish! It’s OK to live in a corner, in a crack or under the fridge but hang from the light or the curtains. […]
India, my India, how I remember you. Not as some soldier or wide eyed tourist awed by your ancient culture – and your milling multitudes. Nor fascinated by the riches of a maharaja, horrified by mutilated beggars in the streets or shocked by the teaming destitute that throng the Kashmir Gate. No I remember […]
I’m only a mouse in the chocolate chip cookies but I make enough racket to awaken the dead. As I scrabble and scratch, gnawing and chewing. Which wakes up the people asleep in the bed. As I knock over drink cans, rattle the glasses, jangle a tea spoon or fall in the tub. […]