Gavin Bourke

Gavin was born in 1977 in Tallaght, Dublin, where he lived for twenty-four years. He holds a B.A. Degree in Humanities from DCU and a Masters Degree in Modern Drama Studies from UCD. He has worked in Library Service for twenty years. He was shortlisted for The Redline Book Festival Poetry Award in 2016. His work covers a broad range of subject matter including nature, time, memory, addiction, mental health, human relationships, politics, contemporary social issues and injustice as well as urban and rural life, both past and present. He is married and lives in County Meath.

Unanswered Call

Cold glass,
attached to everything.
The line not to cross,
moving back and forward,
the goalposts changing,
quicker than the wind.

Information overload,
dispatches from everywhere
and nowhere significant.
Christmas in the attic,
the tree came down for the last time,
without the lights.
No door to wonder,
on Christmas morning anymore.
All seen with glass eyes
before and after.
Positive or negative?
in the age of the mirror.
An aspiration,
to die of natural causes.
Sexualised within
an inch of their lives.
Selves despising selves
on downward continuums.
Rows of queuing traffic
letting off steam.
More control
in the pilot seat?
Car door lights
aligned neatly
at the crossroads.
Heads bowed or
eyes to the roof,

Loss of control to
the centrifugal locum?
At the end of it all,
to be unable to form a sentence
without recourse
to the glass slab.

to the addict,
does everyone like everything
about themselves?
Heard them trapped below,
falling into sleep,
shame and stigma,
the fodder that feeds it.

Through the prism
of memory,
were we ever alive at all?
who answered the call?

© 2019 Gavin Bourke