An Old Woman Cooking Eggs - by
That’s me in the painting.
/ My face smooth and brow clear,
/ for I do not worry over
/ what I cannot see.
food
The Soldier Mood - by
We were eating chip potatoes underneath the April stars
/ That glittered coldly and aloof from earth and earthly wars;
/ We were three…
The Asparagus - by
In his final years, illness attended / the artist. His friends brought him flowers / and, in modest works, when…
Old Christmastide - by
Heap on more wood! the wind is chill; / But let it whistle as it will, / We’ll keep our…
Cracking the Code - by
When we feed nuts
/ to the squirrel
/ at our back door
/ he seems remarkably clever
/ to come back for more.
/ Yet if, after day one,
/ he…
The Shopping Forecast - by
The Shopping Forecast issued by the Dole Office
/ at 1930 on Monday 1st January.
/
/ There are warnings of Sales in Frasers,
/ Debenhams,…
Waffle House Crush - by
I’ll have you smothered n covered n
/ diced n peppered n
/ capped n lathered n
/ lustred n smoothed n
/ spread
/
/ drizzled n dazzled n
/ blazed…
A Tray of Frozen Songbirds - by
For our last meal together / my father takes out of the freezer / a tray of frozen songbirds.
Address to a Haggis - by
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
/ Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!
/ Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
/ …
Street Market - by
Here, under the awning of cotton,
/ Tomatoes are heaped in a flare
/ Of glossy red beauty, and rotten
/ Sick-sweet smells of fruit fill…
Human Chain - by
for Terence Brown
/
/ Seeing the bags of meal passed hand to hand
/ In close-up by the aid workers, and soldiers
/ Firing over the…
Rabbie, Rabbie, Burning Bright - by
Atween November’s end and noo
/ there’s really nithin else tae do
/ but climb inside a brindlet coo
/ …