August 2011
21 posts
Call Centre Blues
“Please wait while one of our UK based advisors becomes available”
Goes the mantra – distant and inalienable
A disembodied female voice
Repetition without a choice
So I wait, beep beep
And I wait, beep beep
And I wait, beep beep
And I wait, beep beep
I consider a more efficient use of my time
Creating art, masterful and sublime
These jobs are designed to deny our potential
And occupy...
Pro Life vs Pro Choice
They hold up placards of Jesus Christ
Beside a picture of a foetus devoid of all life
They believe life begins at the point of conception
And a woman is responsible for a man’s erection
Their stilted values swirl out of time
Obsessed with traditions dated and benign
Like the sacred union between husband and wife
This is the scum that believe in pro life
It’s not just...
The Polite Meeting of Two Well-Mannered Men
Glasgow comes to a standstill when two well-mannered men collide.
Such has been the gradual diminishing of manners from generation to generation that this is now a quite seldom occurrence. Although history books seem to recall this phenomenon occurring regularly – sometimes right up to the 1960s.
It is now probable to suggest that there is, at most, one person of a polite nature present at any...
The Spare Ground
So we dingied school
And hung about on the spare ground
With it’s protruding weeds
And indeterminate mounds
We kicked around a can
In lieu of a ball
Loosened our ties
And clambered over a wall
Into an old lady’s garden
Or so we presumed
Confirmed when she appeared
Just recently exhumed
A vision of death
In a tartan gown
Greeting us with a smile
Not the prerequisite...
Crooked Christmas Tree
Late that night by the crooked christmas tree
You opened up your mouth and prepared to consume me
Your blood was soon to stain my pubic hair
And your naked body was not all that you would bare
And I remember, there were ducks on your pants
And I remember, the way the breeze blew through the flat
And I remember, you taught me how to feel
And I remember, the way I threw up that day’s...
Formaldehyde & Vaseline
The painters never paint
And the writers never write
The painters never paint
And the writers never write
Rain battered face
Hair depletion
A green slime masquerading as excretion
The mind is weak and the flesh is reeling
My whole life encapsulated in a feeling
Regret
In whole or in part
Condemned by the purveyors of shit motorway art
Content with a life of watered down beer
A...
Plastic Bags
We packed up a year and a half into faded Co-op bags, which we then exchanged in silence. They were filled primarily with folded underwear that seemed familiar but somehow lost.
The self same underwear that had sat side by side and, on occasion, rubbed against each other was now quarantined. Confined to their respective plastic bag they passed each other without a sound.
The look on your face...
The Modern Day Midgie Rakers
I woke up - fists clenched, ready to defend myself
While the knowledge slowly seeped in
Tuesday morning, only the bin men
That tribe of travelling men
Whose clocks are wired wrong
So desperate are they for our detritus
That they wake me from my slumber
Conspiratorial whispers mutate into shouts and howls of laughter
Underpinned by a symphony of smashing glass and crashing steel
The...
Oh Dear Green Place
Oh dear green places of Glasgow
You welcome tramp and child alike
Provide a refuge from the brew
Allow a battalion of students to ride a bike
Brilliant green scars across the anonymous grey
Islands of beauty not yet swept away
A place to write, to think and to dream
Away from the malaise of the estates and the schemes
Oh dear green places of Glasgow
Relics of Victorian splendour
Our...
An introduction of sorts
This page should, hopefully, act as an outlet for all my misguided artistic ventures that lay separate from How Garbo Died (the most pronounced of my misguided artistic adventures).
In keeping with tradition, everything here will be uncompromisingly lo-fi. Just little snippets and recordings of ideas useless and larvae. Poems, rants, spoken words, songs, field recordings and general self...
