The A82
Weaves its way down
The western bank
Of Loch Lomond
...
The new nation hung in the ice of
Starvation and hunger
Makeshift shacks barely standing against
the wind
...
The physics of possibilities.
Sub-atomic world.
What's happening within us will
...
Leaving London
Aboard a train
Watching the countryside
Change
...
Life is a question mark
until it breaks in the end
and then
...
You may wonder why
I write a thousand poems
Hours upon hours of time
Whose only reward
...
Youth
Lounged by the pool of his face with such
Proud indiscretion, propped on an elbow
Winking
...
The masculine, my lad
Is not the bombast of foolish braggadocio
Nor the flexing of unwarranted muscle
The brutal crush of an innocent
...
She stands there looking
Grass growing in fields at her feet
The smell of dung wafts through the air
A pitchfork stabbed into blackened soil
...