You’ll be sitting in a bar that used to be a brothel
or at least that markets itself as such
with a continental beer that is new to you
and will briefly be a favourite.

There’ll be no-one else there but an attractive
man or woman – delete as applicable –
working behind the bar, attentive
but not over-bearing in their independence.

There’ll be no music, but the memory of music,
and you’ll recently have been thinking
of a childhood trauma while running your finger
over a familiar scar with a sense of presque vú,

and though you’ll have enough signal to google presque vú
and then jamais vú, you won’t, somehow, to get lost
in news websites or the scrags of your life;
the ‘scrags’ and everything will offend you,

since of late you’ve doubted the purpose of existence –
having left God far behind you now question
goodness too and find yourself close to violence
with greater and greater frequency. Don’t worry.

This is why you are here, in a nigh-on deserted pub,
nursing old wounds, reading a poem, with a ringing
in your ears. You’re searching for a silence
to listen into; you’ll hear nothing.

 

Na Cumhan as Fheàrr airson an Dàin seo a Leughadh

Bidh thu nad shuidhe ann an taigh-seinnse
(no tha co-dhiù ga margadh fhèin mar sin)
le leann on tìr-mhòr a tha ùr dhut
agus a bhios, airson grèis, do roghainn.

Cha bhi neach eile ann ach fear no tè
(sguab às mar as iomchaidh)
eireachdail ag obair air cùl a bhàr, furachail
gun a bhith ainneartach nan neo-eismeileachd.

Cha bhi cèol ann, ach cuimhne ciùil,
agus bhi tu air a bhith meòrachadh a-chianaibh
mu thubaist nad òige agus tu a’ ruith do chorrag
thar èarra dualach, le mothachadh presque vú,

’s ged a bhios signal gu leòr agad gus presque vú
googladh ’s jamais vú cha bhi gus do fhèin a chall
ann an làraichean naidheachd, no frachd do bheatha fhèin;
cuiridh an ‘frachd’ agus seo uile cais ort

leis gun do thòisich thu o chionn ghoirid a bhith teagmhach
mu adhbhar bithe – Dia fad air do chùlaibh
tha thu a-nis a’ ceasnachadh maitheas cuideachd,
agus tha thu tighinn faisg air fòirneart nas tric ’s nas tric. Na gabh dragh.

Sin as coireach gu bheil thu seo, ann am pub
a tha cha mhòr falamh, ag ìocadh lotan, a’ leughadh dàn,
le crith nad chluas. Tha thu a’ feuchainn airson tost
ris a dh’eisteas tu. Cha chluinn thu dad.