Greater Glasgow Health Board.

Excerpt from short stories 'Greater Glasgow Health Board: 'Whit Aldo seen the uther day.'

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walkin alang suachiehall street wae JoJo. standin outside burger king wiz big willy the junky fae doon ma street. He wiz hammered. Sawzild. Jitterin on the spot in his blue and white tracky. staggering forward then fallen back. Forward and back. His heed was dripping doon like he wiz fallen asleep, and his legs buckled doon then sprang back up. Thing is, it wiz a busy Saturday efternoon, you cud hear bagpipes buzzin in the distans, and folk oot way thur weans shoppin. Willy has weans as well you know. Imagine that? Yir da, a grown man, a junky, humiliatin himself in the centre. They aw gawked at him like walking by a shite exhibit. Total disgust. Weans thinkin it wiz funny as fuck. Thinkin he thought he wiz probly still in his living room. Poor bastard should be on the methadone or electro-shock. His weans are in care. Cause his wifes a junky, too. bet he wiz just daein a wee dance, so he could cadge some money for a burger. Scum, man.

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then the uther day, you wont fuckin believe this, wiz fucking brilliant. a wiz walkin alang the road, as yee day, and I kid hear this junky cow moanin. and guess whit. She hud her hand and a wee bit o er arm stuck in the fuckin postboax. haha! Belter man. She wiz out the game as well, lollin about on the spot. like a dog on its leash. jag bag burd. she was gibberin. probobly trying her luck at bumpin some of the letters in the post hopin tae find a bit of doe. Missed her giro. But I just stood wae Jamie and tam laughin right at her. hahahaha! she was a fuckin disgrace. She wiz makin no sense, spangled oot her mind, moanin like she had downs or sumting. she started saying 'fuck off, fuck off.....naaw! gonnae help us.fuck off, fuck off! naw gonnay help us.' we jist kept laughin then Alsay got his phone oot and filmed it. we just kept pissing our selves and then walked away. and we watched the video. Gonny put it oan youtube. Funny as fuck! Glasgow is a fuckin whole man. Rats man, should aw be put doon. Fuckin love it.

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Certain people.

There are many grey chairs
who do nothing except
let other people sit on them.

Riddled with error.

My book of poetry and prose and short stories is now available online. 'Riddled with errors' (originally called, Important Nonsense) is a collection of over 69 pieces of untamed poetry, bizzare stories, jaw dropping honesty, and dark science. It's available in the U.K. only and costs £5:o0 post and packaging included. The book is signed and contains a personal note too.

The work contained in here is largely from my formative years; late teens to late twenties. Some from years ago, some from just last year. It's brash, brazen, full of holes that are portals of discovery, full of slap dashery and hyperbolic seriousness. Fit for the young, the old, the dead, and the yet to be born.

Comment and criticism for 'Riddled with errors':

'Feral poetry' - Anon. 'Sincere dross.' - Anon. 'Unusual images fight with intriguing and messy brain matter.' - Jenifer Wills. 'A poet, of and for, the attention deficit disorder.' - Anon. 'Part Glasgow, part psyche map, part rainbow explosion and word finger painting.' - Anon.

Order a copy. Have a read.

As we see it.

My brother and I used to pull down
large writing pads from the shelves
and he would draw a precise earth
lined and squared and I would scribble
bright colours over the page.
We were both drawing
the world from different angles.