Three poems, by Colin Dardis

 

 

Ghosts Out There

All these ghosts with their spray cans
writing their name across the city
trying to convince us that they exist
as if bricks offer validity

  

 

Mid-March

The empty
papier-mâché nest
hung as a gift from
an optimistic child,
the birds waiting until
the camouflage of leaves. 

 

 

An Elastic Complacency

a glove of hand sanitiser
before pressing the button
at the traffic lights
        you have to wait
        for the green
light from the government
before staying outside
for more than an hour 

in prison,
they get daily constitutionals
in a yard
        here, we go walking
        and then return to our cells 

subjugated for our own health
        and all healths 

the revolution was televised
but the conquest was invisible
        a breath
        a touch
        a trace 

and now
we cross the road
back to normality
        an old dress
        slipped on
        and immediately
        we return to ourselves 

now the conquest
is like a strange neighbour
you hear through the walls
but rarely see
        they leave their bins out
        and don’t collect them in 

and we return
to old homes
with opened curtains

 

Colin Dardis is the author of ten poetry collections, most recently with the lakes (above/ground press, 2023). A neurodivergent poet, editor and sound artist, he currently co-hosts the Poetry Poetry open mic night in Belfast, and is editor of the poetry blog, Poem Alone.