In Gordon Street - by
for I could board tonight
to any of those unearthly destinations
whatever train I chose
Glasgow
People Made Glasgow - by
Shame in our hulls
/ why else would we drink to incoherence
/ jump on the heads of passing men
/ punch our women
/ tell our children…
In the Mid-Midwinter - by
the light comes back
the light always comes back
Outwith - by
Revising my visa essay,
applying for three more years
here, I read my own scribbled words
Aquafit - by
November Friday mornings when the weather’s
/ foul Glaswegian, see me out my bed
/ by half past nine, racing the traffic to…
I am the Esperance - by
I am the Esperance, I sail in your wake, / canvas unfurled, bellied with hope / as you pour into…
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…
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…