The Coogit Bairn (for Sandie Craigie)
you were the best of us
cutting through the bullshit
poses of poets & poli-thickos
with your razor-edged-gutter-rants.
all the cack churned out from
the brains of idiots you had seen
before, plastering the route of your Coogit.
an ordinary phonebox that I pass once a week
brings you to mind your voice sharp as paper cuts,
wish you were here to blow the shite out
of my rafters watch pigeons scatter feathers
shivering at your blessed words
& that tree in
rooted in ash, snuff & smoke.
auld reekie I am glad you rained on us.