SELECTED POETRY

by
Mark Edwards

MIDNIGHT

you duck inside
an old bomb shelter
the floor wet leaves
beercans used condoms
a chokehold stench
fifty years of teenage pish
graffiti you glimpse
lighting your cigarette
I hate Mongols

but you�re not alone
someone or something
lurks in the corner
your stomach drops
glint of steel
and sure knowledge
of one thing only
a door that was�nt there
shuts behind you

� Mark Edwards

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GHOST

had he lived
she would�ve called him John
a name like a blank canvas
leaving him free to weave his own thread
through the same gray cloth

a child�s voice calling for help
in the miaow of a cat
the squalling of gulls

she is seen going to the shops
she is talked about behind her back
she picks up things with a hand
that won�t give up its tremor

small quick steps on the path
he runs but she can never catch up
the cruellest trick
she has learned not to move

� Mark Edwards

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MOTHER

if its a fart at one end its a
shite at the other she would say of
news carried through the village

her being the middle child
she could get off with the likes
of that and was rarely shy

jumping into fights
to defend the elder brother
till he got out the place

leaving a fair few fearing
her temper his resurfacing so it
was never going to be a local

affair and when finally the bairn
arrived it was pinned securely
on the landlord�s left tenant

him with the straggly beard
who�d roadied his way through
the nineties but she fair piped down

after beardie went back to the rigs
retaining only enough spite for
pervy auld mannies young lads

hangin about shuttered windows
shellsuit bottoms torn at
the hem the young lass

now screams for reebok trainers
then turns austere for an hour long
service having the foresight

to pick her moment tug the
ministers sleeve informing
him the teas too weak

hardly substitute for the stuff
mummy prefers straight from
the bottle

� Mark Edwards

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OPTIMISM

�500 or nearest offer
the sign goes up front passenger window
must�ve knocked it up on his computer
rust showing through the wheel arches
december through january bad enough but
two wee boys and another on the way
his wife carried it all back from town
while he sat tapping at
an online application
buses departing hourly on sundays
a well lit supermarket
the reduced to clear section
but he burned these thoughts
recycling the empties

� Mark Edwards

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SCIENCE FICTION

in the glistening
blueblack window
the shadow of wiry branches

wind batters the window
branches flailing

in the distance a few spots of light
orange, white, yellow

a science fiction night
nothing out there
is human

� Mark Edwards

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SAIR ANE

I didn�t think it would happen again
but then it did
this lassie at my work
she used to give me a lift
I had to buy a car
just to stop myself going insane!
she has freckles on the backs of her ankles
I saw them one day
when she was wearing halfmasts
I used to sit in her car
and we�d talk and laugh so much
it felt like my last love
resurrected
I have to watch what I say
even the other day
she has this long red hair
and says it�s for the chop
I almost burst out
� No! Don�t do that!
in two days it�s her birthday
I know exactly what to get her
but didn�t get an invite
life�s a bit sair at the moment
business as usual

� Mark Edwards

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A GREAT THING

I heard the gate shut
a knock on the door
then voices

No no, take them back
I dinna drink beer.
Whit aboot yir son?
My son drinks enough as it is.

I jumped up
and ran downstair,
Whit�s this?

It was three wee boys
from a few doors down.
Dad had fixed
their satellite dish.

They each had two bottles of Miller.
The biggest boy held his up.
The look on his face,
like here was a great thing.

� Mark Edwards

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