DOES IT RHYME?
The flicker in the eye, the longing.
The beard stroke, masking the ID crises.
I'm still as tense and wound as 20 years ago.
Still falling for the same old hackery,
Waiting for The Fall, The Drop,
The final, final couplet.
(Dundee August 2008)
NOSE OUT OF JOINT/MEMORY FRAGMENT #4
It's only a number,
I'm just a scrolled option on a VDU.
But I still feel Atlas-burdened,
As I watch Joe compose his difficult doxology.
Another day of being cut adrift,
From all the back-dated fools,
Lunchtime legends of the Wide West End.
I can hear their echoes, spouting piss and vinegar from a Summer ago.
The peace evading them, as their games commence,
(Broughty Ferry, August 2008)
OPTIMISM (#1 Bottle)
Walking through the douce, the prim Dundee,
The one of postcards.
Weary from a week of excess.
Enlivened by the dream; gold-spun, dissipating as I walk,
Atomised punters sip Chardonnay,
Tease expensively tooled barnets,
Look longingly into the middle distance,
And then raise expectant voices,
In a mediocre parody of contentment.
I'm not quite nodding out on the sauce,
But I'm fooling no one,
Least of all myself.
I'm too old for angst,
But too long in the tooth to give in,
It's enough to be keeping a weather eye
On an uncertain future.
(Dundee, The Social Bar, August 2008)