Wednesday, 25 July 2018

Today's Walk

Late morning. Tramp through Hampden. Sun high hot. Under the bridge at Mount Florida Station. Pigeon shit. Trace the outline of the stadium. Semicircle. Think about being in the stadium. Remember being in the stadium. Follow the wasteland. Pause in buildings. Toryglen. Supermarket. Sports-centre. On to Asda for nappies. 
Walk around. Feel weird as always in a supermarket. The air conditioning feels good though. I scratch my arm. I like the way bread looks. I buy bread. Go to the cafe after buying what is needed. Coffee. Finish coffee. Caroline calls. She wants to go for a walk. I never refuse a walk.
Early afternoon Caroline meets us on Holmlea Road. We tramp through the suburbs of King’s Park cutting under the train station and then into the park. Even with the heavy rain earlier in the week the meadow still looks scorched and struggles. Spot a helleborine - nice. Follow the old trees around the park. Touch an oak leaf. Stop at the walled garden. Elliott comes out for a walk and a play on the shaded lawn. We chat and enjoy the weather.
Once at the edge of Castlemilk we start the process of looping back on ourselves through Linn Park. Up Simshill. Through Linn Park meadow. Yellow rattle, Scabious, Yarrow etc. Through the woods. Cool dappled light. Tramping along now with the White Cart water. Leave the park at the Snuff Mill bridge and then home for tea. 

Wednesday, 18 July 2018

3 haibun

As I walk in one of the waitresses is in mid-coughing-fit. I do my best not to look disgusted or terrified - I’m just recovering from an illness and my thoughts are selfishly anchored in my own health. I think of leaving but feel the awkwardness of such a move would be too much. I sit down in a booth on top of a seat cushioned by terror and disgust or terry and diane. 
‘Ok. What you havin’?’
‘Black coffee, please.’
The coffee arrives. I blow on it out of, one part custom and another part anxiety. I smell it. Obviously bitter but other things. The foam and scum become clouds. I watch portraits of women and animals come and go through a soft parade. A pig shits out Morrissey’s head. To be born of stars, or something or another, it says.

olfaction infinity 
frogs are time

Overheard: ‘Would it be in bad taste to attach a marital aid to an urn and copulate w/ it?’
Overheard: ‘Depends who owns it?’ 
I stop overhearing. It’s hard to stop listening. 
I replace a live drum track w/ a drum machine created on my computer.

sliding peacefully into a begging bowl an amphibian 


Jackie O has a vision of an outdoors man skinning animals on fresh snow. The moon sits between green lights. The outdoors man obviously has at least a three day stubble. Bobby gets lost while he’s out buying records. The outdoors man obviously overdressed in every occasion. No one has heard from him since. The outdoors man asks directions from a pharaoh. Bobby doesn’t win an oscar. 

somewhere between 
nothing and this world 
migratory birds


v... z… half cut o’s like the moon but different; cut the other way. Not o, ho. Orchid rosettes pick time - tea served w/ sandwiches of various sizes and filling and feelings. The sky to minor triangle moody / nowhere to go being in time. Feelings picked by colour. Pursed in forgotten autumn hues and that other season - that other season.

ghost orchid
i delete your 


Saturday, 14 July 2018


cloudy day

              winter shower

my son’s dummy

                the colour

finds the floor

               of my son’s boredom


winter sunset

               just enough mortality

a memory

               a moorhen

of a scuffed knee

               courts a sugar-pot


heavy rain
the green smell of a
pink tulip


picking berries
my fingers become