Glasgow Sonnet i - by
A mean wind wanders through the backcourt trash.
Hackles on puddles rise, old mattresses
puff briefly and subside…
Place: Glasgow
Crith-Thalmhainn - by
Tha cian nan cian a-nis bho thàinig
gainneamh a Sahàra a Ghlaschu,
is tha creagan Leòdhais tòrr nas sine
na Tursachan Chalanais,
Dream Cities - by
I
/
/ Glasgow, late September and the city I spoke of
/ in another country …
The Theatre Royal’s Gorgeous Transformation to the Hall of a Thousand Lights - by
As fast as Glasgow burned its theatres to the ground
/ it built them back again – we couldn’t do
/ without our…
Trèanaichean - by
Soraidh slàn leis na trèanaichean orains a
/ ghiùlain sinn eadar Baile Ghobhainn ’s Partaig,
/ Sràid na Drochaid is Ceann a’ Chnuic ’s…
The God of Sugar (Sugar Shed, Greenock) - by
Cavernous – and empty now – / no shouts of dockers, / no barefoot women shovelling / molasses – it…
Gasometer - by
You are an iron guard or talisman,
and I hear that those who talk of eyesores
you have consigned, bless you, to the bad place.
Some Old Photographs - by
weather evocative as scent
/ the romance of dark stormclouds
/ in big skies over the low wide river
/ …
The Bargain - by
The river in January is fast and high.
/ You and I
/ are off to the Barrows.
/ Gathering police-horses twitch and fret
/ at the Tron…
Trio - by
Coming up Buchanan Street, quickly, on a sharp winter evening
/ a young man and two girls, under the Christmas lights –…
Good Friday - by
Three o’clock. The bus lurches
/ round into the sun. ‘D’s this go –‘
/ he flops beside me – ‘right along Bath Street?
/ -…
Glasgow Street - by
Out of this ugliness may come
/ some day, so beautiful a flower
/ that men…