Inner Circle
Controlled Explosion Press, 2008.
20 pages. £4.
ISBN 978-0-9558996-0-7.
A new sequence by Graham Fulton with his characteristic and uncompromisingly individual blend of full frontal realism, surreal humour, compassion and anger.
Inner Circle takes a journey on Glasgow’s 'Clockwork Orange’ underground with a poem for every station,
beginning, and ending, at St. Enoch. He shines an exhilarating torch into a claustrophobic, familiar world,
picking out his 'ordinary’ fellow travellers …
a pink punk fairy, a dying man, two lovers, a silent observer, people we’ll never see again, reflections of
ourselves in the window.
Fleeting and fragile, stark and tender, accessible, always in motion. This lean collection is a breathless, funny, disturbing ride. Inner Circle is available from: Word Power in Edinburgh, or can be ordered by email: Order Inner Circle
For any orders or enquiries about the listed
publications, or to organise a poetry reading, please contact:
Controlled Explosion Press,
Flat 9, 32 Greenlaw Drive, Paisley,
Scotland, United Kingdom, PA1 3RU
The Pink at Partick
on at Partick a pink fairy shocking girl with pink
Vivienne-Westwood-Derek-Jarman-Jubilee
pink hair extremely pink with mad pink shoes
and decadent shiny satiny tights a coat close
to pink a bag
with Cupcake on it a bit
of a pretty pink rebel rebel with black black lashes
Angel’s Delight slightly dangerous pink punk fairy
making our lives a little pinker at long
pink last pink fairy girl good for you ignore
the black pink dirty looks off at Govan
Reading at the StAnza Poetry Festival 2007: Clone of Destiny
Some day I will go to Edinburgh
to see Dolly the Sheep at the Royal Museum.
Frankenstein muncher, superstar ruminant,
James Whale floozy, helix freak.
Boxed on a shrunken acre of soil,
a skimpy ration of virtual grass;
grazing amongst Industrial puffers,
coughing jallopies, cartoon machines.
The milestones of enlightenment.
Auld Reekie at the cutting edge.
It’s alive! It’s alive! said Colin Clive
as he winced at the stitched-up flatskull result
of mucking about with Hollywood brains.
The lightning zinged, the cameras rolled.
A mutton enigma, Da Vinci smile.
Today a cell, tomorrow a Man!
And what did you get out of it Dolly
before your date with the taxidermist?
Extra straw and early arthritis,
dodging a fate of mint sauce and carrots.
I know something you don’t know.
The secrets of life, the age of God.
Post-modern Prometheus Holyrood geeks,
hooves in the footsteps of Bell and Baird.
We’ll raise a dram to your DNA.
Scotland, as usual, showing the way.