18 March 2018

East Of Leven


I could dae this of my own accord you know. I dinnae need the spike, the earmuffs and the diamond collar. I do awright oan ma ane. I kin write awright if ah kin just get some sleep! Men of a certain age, especially those of the manic-depressive persuasion, often find it difficult tae sleep. Loads of pent up emotion an’ barely supressed anger keeps them awake at night. You’ll find that many men of a certain age carry luggage heavy wi pent up emotion an’ barely supressed anger; it’s the lack of fuckin’ sleep that does it.

I’m in an awfy fix. I’m in Scoonie, East of Leven; Scotland’s ane Anus Mundie. I came here tae get away from it all. Fuckin’ well succeeded tae – I’m miles away from anything. This place was designated as pointless back in 1962 and filed under forgotten; do not resuscitate. Some part of me has died here. There is some portion of Scoonie, East of Leven, that shall forever remain Buddha in an unmarked grave.

Brought Johnny. Fat lotta use he is. All he talks about are burds; burds he’s shagged and burds he wants tae shag. He’s goat it bad that yin. He was gifted wi a beautiful intellect which resides in the glans of his penis. I love the guy tae death, but one day that cock o’ his will lead him into mair than temptation. I told him tae be meagre wi his wants, but on that score he’s the greediest bastard a’ ever met.

We’re no exactly oan holiday here. This is no gentleman’s junket. We’re on the lam. No fi the law or that, but fi our friends. Our pals want a pound of our flesh. Some depressing tale involving supposed MDMA tablets and an alleged horse tranquiliser. A very ugly story, but all too common in today’s marketplace. We were merely intermediaries in this carfuffle, but since the primary agents had absconded wi the loot, we were held by many tae be responsible. Stupid bastards. To a man they are all stupid bastards and the stupid like to weigh in mob handed. The mob that’s after us is comprises of some unsavoury characters who’d just as soon knife you as kick ye in the head when yer down. We’re running from a lynching – there’s nothing the stupid love more than a good lynching. They’ll never find us in Scoonie though. God cudnae find us in Scoonie.

I brought my stash, of course, but it’s running low an’ I’m rationing the whizz. Give Johnny his due he’s been out in Leven every day hustling the few remaining angles, but maybe he’s just hunting fur burds. It’s been three weeks since he got laid last and he’s getting kinda antsy. That testosterone banks up and swamps the brain ye know. Many are the wondrous feats of stupidity perpetrated by horny men.

“You know trying to find a trick on the street is too much like hard work. You want to open an oaffice.”

“Why an office?”

“If you had an oaffice the tricks would come tae you.”


“Tae buy your services of course”

“And what are my services?”

“You’ll be relieving them of their cash.”

“Just like that?”

“Just a little mind you, no enough tae send naebody tae the polis.”

“Ye’ll have tae be specific Buud – what would I be selling?”

“Dreams Johnny Boy – dreams.”

“Fan fuckin tastic Buddha – wid you get tae the point?”

“A raffle – a lottery, anything that costs us nowt to organise and the punter only a few coppers tae play. We can use the laptop tae design the necessary and print them off in the site office.”

“Won’t they be suspicious at the office?”

“We’ll wait till they’ve gone hame – I have the key right here.”

“That’s a screwdriver.”

“It’s a key in the right hands.”

“What are we raffling Buddha?”

“A luxury caravan – fur Save The Children.”

“So we are going to run a fake raffle no one will ever win. Won’t people be pissed when they find out?”

“They never will. Millions of people dae the lottery every day and not one of them realises that they were ripped off. I’ve done the maths Johnny and statistically speaking yer odds of winnin’ are about the same if ye buy a ticket or not. No-one seriously expects tae win the lottery anyway. They dae it just in case; people are playing ‘cause it fuels the old pipe dreams for a wee while. They get to imagine what they would spend it on if they did win; an entirely vicarious thrill costing a mere pound.”

“Looking at it that way people are pretty stupid., eh?”

“The stupid ones are, but the rest are just greedy. Never make the mistake of thinking yer trick is stupid Johnny, never underestimate anybody. If you find a trick who is genuinely stupid – walk away. Have nae dealings wi the stupid whatsoever.”

“Surely they are the easiest tricks?”

“Too easy, but unpredictable. You never know how the stupid will react to being made a cunt of Johnny. The prisons are full of stupid fuckers who killed for nae apparent reason. Nothing is more dangerous than brute ignorance and conscientious stupidity. Have no dealings whatsoever with the stupid Johnny. If you huv a stupid friend – boot him intae touch. If ye huv stupid customers – get rid of them before they get ye busted; I guarantee ye that they tell every cunt they meet everything they know about you. No drug, not even booze, causes some much strife. If we're looking for the source of our fuckin’ woes, we shouldnae be testin’ folk for drugs, we should be testin’ them for stupidity. There’s nae fuckin’ rehab fur the stupid – they’re always fuckin’ stupid and that’s a fact. What was it Oscar Wilde said? ‘There is no sin but stupidity’ I reckon he was spot on; stupidity is the route of all evil.”

“We can all be stupid at times Buddha – people make mistakes.”

“I agree, but that’s no whit am talking about. I’m talking about the terminally stupid – the ones who cannae learn fi their mistakes; because they were right to make them and would do it again tomorrow for the same inane, stupid reasons they did it today. I’m serious Johnny – you let the stupid into your life and chaos ensues. That’s enough philosophy fur one day – fire up the laptop an’ let’s get tae work.”


I wish Johnny had listened to me. Perhaps I should have placed more emphasis on the stupid, but Johnny found he was willing tae indulge stupidity if it came wi a pretty face. That peccadillo was to cost him dearly one day, but that’s another story and I’m no the man tae tell it. Creativity being the cessation of stupidity our raffle scheme worked out well. We only sold a coupla hundred tickets, but that raised enough to dig us oot a hole and still have some change for beer. All’s well that ends well they say – except this is no the end, but the beginning.


16 March 2018

Holy Cow


The ritual of disclosure

That striptease of discovery

Makes liars of us all

Yet those forgeries of love

And softly spoken fables

Soon become our sacred cows


15 March 2018



While you’ve been prostrate

With your lamplight bleeding

I’ve been on the randan

And filching all the fun

But you’d rather play the martyr

Than set he twilight reeling

You’d rather bathe in tears

Aren’t you the noble one?

Your kind of love is for suckers

Strictly for slaves and bums

You’d find it more rewarding

If you’d just take it as it comes

You’ll win more than you lose

If you’re keeping count

It all evens out eventually

If you spread enough about

So you should heed my words

Next time you’re sucker punched

Get yourself some symmetry

Don’t get your panties bunched


14 March 2018



you see that radge explode?

the cunt’s in psycho mode

he’s got them killing eyes

which came as no surprise

I recognised his face

I seen him round the place

that cunt’s on overload

his dharma is exposed

he’s on a losing streak

he might not last the week

it’s written in his book

if you just care to look

that he’s a shooting star

he’ll burn so bright

but won’t get so far


13 March 2018

Louder Than Words


I have some evil shit

fermenting in my can

and words I dare not speak

to either god or man


they say it makes no odds

and I believe it’s true

we’re not judged for what we think

but for the things we do


Little Porkies


she took a piece

delicious little tart

I spun her some yarn

on the off chance

she still harboured

any romantic illusions

some tired old cliché

from the top shelf

an awkward confection

of fractured truths

and outright posture

I can sell snow

I know my face

is my best device

I don’t rehearse

I do it alfresco

but it all joins up

in the ancient ritual

and no-one gets hurt

so there’s no crime committed


Meat On The Table


What can I say?

I needed the brass

We can argue the ethics

It won’t put meat on the table

I’d steal for my own

I’d probably kill

Too raw for you?

So what would you do

There in my shoes?


7 March 2018



I shoot him every day

But usually in the back

Arrogant fucker turned

Just as I pulled the trigger

Got him right between the eyes

He looked genuinely surprised

As if he wasn’t asking for it

Those psychic bullets

Get them every time


6 March 2018

Mary Mary


I dig the yeah, yeah, yeah

You spill the nah, nah, nah

You’re one contrary fucker

You’d argue black was white

Maintain that wrong was right

Not that you give a fuck

You just enjoy the fight

You think you are great

But you‘re a lousy date

More like a tyrant in diapers

Than a potential mate

We would argue all day

If you had your way

But I think you said enough

I have nothing else to say


5 March 2018



You got ghosts in your blood

You best get you some stony

I got the fear on – roll me one too

I’m bound to get lucky

I’m prepared to die trying

You can fetch me solace

From another man’s gutter

Because I’m headed home

Where there will be a welcome

Or a maybe just a lynching

They might have forgotten

I hope they’ve forgiven

What’s done is done

And I paid my dues

I don’t believe in resurrections

Or in tearful reconciliations

The past is gone forever

Ghosts take shape in its shade

And my head is haunted

With that fearful geometry

And the friends undone

By time and tide

You take your best shot

And maybe another

You might win some

But you’ll lose more

No one passes this way

Unless they pay the toll




When half the world is fast asleep

And some are merely counting sheep

While lonesome lovers gently weep

Their broken dreams lay in a heap

What secrets does the darkness keep?

As burglars into bedrooms creep

For what night conceals is buried deep


1 March 2018



she said somebody

stole her cinnamon

but that someone wasn’t me

by the time I got to her

she was shelling it for free

I thought it was a good thing

but what I didn’t realise

was the depth of that betrayal

and the ghosts behind her eyes

it didn’t last that long

we were hobbled from the start

I think I gained her trust

but could not win her heart

I confess I like the bad girls

but the bad girls never stay

if the truth where to be told

I think it’s best that way