Graham Fulton

New collections from Scottish poet Graham Fulton, due for publication:

Unsaved Messages
from Controlled Explosion Press in 2010. A sequence of photographic images of torn or obscured posters, political messages and half-reflections which unite with extracts from old unfinished poems to form something new and complete.

Upside Down Heart
from Controlled Explosion Press towards the end of 2010. A collection of 22 love poems, featuring full colour illustrations by Becky Bolton.

Black Motel
from Roncadora Press. A collection of 21 dreams. Illustrated. Possibly published in 2010.

The Man who Forgot How to
from Roncadora Press. An illustrated chapbook collection about an obsession with mortality. Possibly published in 2010.

 

 

 

Open Plan
from Smokestack Books. A full length collection about a 9 to 5 office job.
Due for publication in 2011.

Equal Night
from Salmon Publishing. A full length collection about grief and the events
before, during and after the death of a loved one. Due for publication in 2012.

Full Scottish Breakfast
from Red Squirrel Press. A full length collection taking us on a journey from
childhood innocence to adult disillusionment and back again. Possibly published in 2010.

Chihuahua

In Gabriels pub the match is on
a massive, plasma, wall-mounted screen.
Scotland have won the toss, Nil Nil.

A granny in a pink plastic coat
nudges beside us, takes a sip
of lager from her half pint glass,
tells us that she had to have
her dog put down this afternoon.

Ian thinks at first she said Son;
he may have misheard, the crowd is loud.
Scotland are holding on, we      re calm.

I miss him a lot, he was just this big
she says, and demonstrates her claim;
a foot of space between her palms.
We try our best not to catch her eye.

It      s nice to have       Ukraine have scored
in darkest Kiev, the clock ticks on.
We watch the drama of life unfold:
red offences, homer ref,
goal-line punts, theatrical dives.
He was thirteen, and had all his teeth.

A last minute penalty bulges the net,
she asks the barstaff to call her a cab.
Ian thinks at first she said Son.
He may have misheard, the time is loud.

Scotland are passing out, we      re done.
I always fed him chicken and veg,
dog food      s crap. Scotland are mince.

 

 

Big Screen

I ask you if it      s alright if I go ten minutes early
because we      re playing Germany tonight
in a make-or-break qualifier
and I      d like to make the Big Screen kick-off
in the Big Screen kick-off pub
with a big selection of beers on tap,
and you say Of course son
and I hope your team wins
and I      ll see you tomorrow.
And Scotland are losing and the pub is full
of people I      ll eventually never see again
and the screen is veiled by slow grey smoke
and a laughing German
is escorted from the premises,
and it      s all increasingly small
and I can      t really make you out
as I think of you alone in your head
and I wish I could have those ten minutes back.

 

 

The Warrior Race on Bath Street

first a girl on
            boy      s back
                      out
                of their heads
    laughing         glass
smashing         five or six
piling in
with fists           boots     charging
up the hill         not seeing
            the shoppers
                hiding
against the walls of
banks     lawyers     bistros
the zenith
of civilisation
                      letting them
              steam past     booting
                        roaring     throwing
        each other to
the road         stamping
one face
as it melts in the centre
                    the vortex
            people
        silent     behind
their two-way mirror     watching
a primal fury
take shape     letting
them get on with it