Emerging as one of Scotland's most lively voices in poetry
The honest truth is maist folk aye tell lees
anent theirsel, their place, their gear, their bairns.
Some tell them tae let on hou weill they’re fairin,
some souch them saftly wi an adder’s ease,
some anely speik them when they’re sairly prised,
some dinnae sense the herm they micht be daein,
some big a wab tae dern fae nebby speirin.
Masel? I spin them for the fun it gies.
White and bleck anes, aa tae delicht masel,
Catholic or Calvinist - I’m no blate.
Betimes a lee in awkward airts as weill.
Yestreen I speiled ane at the Kirkyaird yett:
“A guid release came at the hinder end.”
A damned lee, as if I damned weill kenned.