Last Lauch - by
The Minister said it wad dee,
/ the cypress buss I plantit.
/ But the buss grew…
churches
Left Her Lane - by
Aiblins she thocht he’d hap her doon
/ In the old kirk-yaird ayont the toon
/ Whaur the kirkspire shadows his faither’s stane…
Bela Lugosi in Stornoway - by
I was definitely typed, doomed
to be an exponent of evil
Loss - by
Emerging from the kirk
/ with my family
/ into a howling wind,
/ someone observed
/ my tear-stained cheek
/ and asked me
/ what was on my…
Assisi - by
The dwarf with his hands on backwards
/ sat, slumped like a half-filled sack
/ on tiny twisted legs from which
/ sawdust might run,
/ outside the…
‘tell us a story, they said’ - by
tell us a story they said
he thought a long time
unsure, like someone
searching blind in a cave