If I…

If I am a poet…
and my thoughts pour out in slick black rivers to stain the page,
to ink it with dull-edged bleeding letters and fade
like exhausted breath in air…

Escapology

while I was writing this
my creaking pen echoed
the music randomness makes
the stroke of my keys repeated it
like a drumming in the nerve

Thirlt

Bocht an selt, aye, noo we’re telt
Tae haud oor tongues, tae bide
Tongue-tackit an nae ging gabbin on
Aboot fit’s watter aneth the brig.

The past is but the past, they say,
Yet here’s wis noo, for noo’s the hoor
We feel the heat o ill-set coorseness lour.

Roofs and Walls

[Meeting Minute 1809]

1

It was an easy mistake to make:
Not fixing the ladder to the wall
Because, of all forces of nature,
Gravity is the most elusive.

December

In heartless December,
Snow fell like a fog from heaven,
Full of resignation.