I first saw this poem on a poster as part of the Poems on the Underground project run by London Underground. I only saw it once, and could only remember a couple of lines – making it hard to search for.
This morning I suddenly remembered much more of the poem and so was able to find it online. Yay!
Quark by Jo Shapcott
‘Trancendental,’ said the technician, ‘to stumble on a quark that talks back. I will become a mystagogue, initiate punters into the wonders of it for cash.’
‘Bollocks’, said the Quark, from its aluminium nacelle. ‘I don’t need no dodgy crypto-human strategising my future. Gonna downsize under the cocoplum or champak, drink blue marimbas into the sunset, and play with speaking quarklike while I beflower the passing gravitons.’