Graham Fulton, Poet

Reading in the De Marco Gallery during the Edinburgh launch of Humouring the Iron Bar Man in 1990

 

Graham Fulton, Poet

 

Tower of Babble

(with Jim Ferguson, Bobby Christie & Ronald McNeil)
Itinerant Publications, 1987.
52 pages. £1.50.
ISBN 0-9512440-0-0.

 

The first Itinerant publication. A collaboration between four of the writers from Tom Leonard's Paisley writers' group.

 

'Reaffirms the vitality of the small publication … no slickness here, just men looking outside the wonders of their own experience to a world in need of creative interpretation … no amount of fine-toothed criticism will diminish the freshness and insight of Tower of Babble. Humility of purpose allows one scope beyond the self, and from this springs the seed of inspired poetry.'
Cheryl Foster, The List

 

 

 

 

'Ability to raise a dry laugh from what would make grown men greit comes through all the greyness of the environment out of which this kind of poetry evolves.'
James Robertson, Radical Scotland

 

Graham Fulton, Poet

 

The Eighth Dwarf

 

Itinerant Publications, 1989.
20 pages. £1.
ISBN 0-9512440-5-1.

 

One of a number of pamphlets produced by Itinerant Publications in the late 1980's.

 

'Fulton uses a free style, is less directly aggressive, and so his points are made more effectively … clearly written from a deep sense of need and deserve to be read.'
Ken Morrice, The List

 

Graham Fulton, Poet

 

Humouring the Iron Bar Man

 

(Link To Poem: Humouring the Iron Bar Man)

Polygon, 1990.
65 pages. £6.95.
ISBN 0-7486-6039-9.

 

 

Part of the process whereby little boys become grown men involves the careful shutting off from the curiosity, hilarity and horror with which children look at the world. This does not happen in the poetry of Graham Fulton: unusual rhythms and miraculous trains of thought bring readers close to the goggle-eyed astonishment and wry seriousness with which this original young poet would appear to view eggs, insects, America, the people, places and strange and sad relationships around his home town of Paisley.

 

 

 

 

This is Fulton's first major collection, bringing together the fruits of several small press publications as well as new work. It is also perhaps the first written-word artefact to tackle, at the level of form, the way perceptions of people and politics are influenced by fast-cut advertising, music, scratch video and other media.

 

 

 

'He has found new angles of perception, new comparisons to draw … a clarity of imagery which will force both a smile of recognition and a start of surprise.'
Ronnie Smith, West Coast Magazine

 

 

 

'Here's a poet who explores the world with wit, irony and intelligence … buy this book.'
David Crystal, Scratch

 

 

'It is some time since I have enjoyed a book of poems and verses so much … he is gloriously articulate in sharing his accumulated street wisdoms.'
Hayden Murphy, The Glasgow Herald

 

 

'An accomplished first collection … he picks his targets like a sniper, waiting for bland cosiness or slick mediocrity to walk into his sights before opening fire.'
Robin Bell, Books in Scotland

 

Graham Fulton, Poet

 

This

 

Rebel Inc, 1993.
22 pages. £2.
No ISBN.

 

One of a series of limited edition pamphlets that Rebel Inc editor Kevin Williamson published in the early 1990s.

Themes: Madness, loneliness, The Monkees, Charles Manson.

 

Graham Fulton, Poet

 

Knights of the Lower Floors

 

(Link To Poem: Cream of Scottish Youth)

Polygon, 1994.
91 pages. £7.99.
ISBN 0-7486-6154-9

 

Fulton's second full length collection exhibits a poetry which is sharply observant and spikily mature. Blackly humorous, ferocious and unsettling, Fulton jumps from everyday Transylvanian Paisley to Paris and Berlin, passing Kirk Douglas, Oscar Wilde and Elvis Presley on the way. Altogether, an edgy and exuberant collection.

 

 

'Graham Fulton has a highly original talent, celebrating the bizarre detritus of our times without losing the human touch. His vivid jagged poetry catches the acrid tang of reality with impressive force.'
Edwin Morgan

 

 

'Another batch of cool and sexy terse verse which has lost none of its spiky jagged pop appeal.'
Eddie Torrance, Rebel Inc

 

 

'Angry, funny, affecting, accessible.'
The Scotsman

 

 

'Fulton's work is impressive because he finds new ways of looking at a world we all recognise … he has reshaped it to create a vibrant literary art. And its vibrancy comes from the humanity with which the lines and their characters are invested.'
West Coast Magazine

 

 

 

'Fulton has developed an original poetic personality that's aggressively his own … having been to the same America as Edwin Morgan, Fulton has brought back a scarier poetics. He is less a dream than a nightmare state.'
Donny O'Rourke, Dream State

 

 
Graham Fulton, Poet

 

Blissed-out for Five

 

(with Des Dillon, Shug Hanlan, Ally May & David Crystal)
Neruda Press, 1997.
36 pages. £4.
ISBN 1-900111-1-00.

 

A chapbook featuring new work from 5 of the best writers working on these islands.

 

Graham Fulton, Poet

 

Ritual Soup and other liquids

 

(Link To Poem: The Statues Outside Paisley Town Hall)

Mariscat Press, 2002.
39 pages. £5.
ISBN 0-946588-32-5.

 

 

A chapbook bringing together some of the best of the new poems written towards the end of the first phase of Graham Fulton's poetic career.

 

 

'This is 'in your face' poetry, verse as stand-up comedy; even on the page every Fulton poem is a performance, while on stage Fulton puts his work over with a pugnacity and aplomb uncommon among poets. His chippy lack of sentimentality, his excoriating ability not merely to describe but to embody frustration, the detached hipness of the technique, all these serve to amplify the scream.'
Donny O'Rourke

 

 

 

 

 

'It's all 17th Century Dutch cow carcass and Francis Bacon – but it is the truth … The Statues Outside Paisley Town Hall has the cinematic element that Fulton does so well. Perhaps it's a bit naïve but the word 'happy' reverberates as you close the book. Why? I know you're not supposed to read poetry like a book but with a short collection – that's what you do. So the denouement is important.'
Karen Docherty, Northwords

 

 

Some of the literary magazines, anthologies, newspapers and online journals Graham Fulton has been published in include

Ambit, Orbis, Other Poetry, The North, Verse, Poetry Wales, Poetry Nottingham, Northwords Now,Poetry Cemetery, Iron, Poetry Scotland, Chapman, Edinburgh Review, Envoi, Staple, Stride, The Herald, Scotland on Sunday, The Wide Skirt, Painted,spoken,The Echo Room, Dream State: the New Scottish Poets,Word Riot, Fire, California Quarterly, Illya's Honey,Amarillo Bay, Concho River Review, Quattrocento,Nthposition, Raving Dove, The Rialto, The Potomac,Poetry Super Highway, Radical Scotland, Snakeskin,Poetry Book Society Anthology, Gown, Markings,Cambridge Literary Journal, Cencrastus, Scottish PoetryLibrary Best 20 Scottish Poems of 2006 online anthology, Scotlands (Carcanet), Scottish Literature in the 20thCentury, Scottish Poems (MacMillan), Brittle Star, NeonHighway, New Writing Scotland, West Coast Magazine,Obsessed with Pipework, Zed 2 O, Nerve Cowboy.

 

 

 

 

My back
is to the window
I am
in the public house
sitting
on foam and torn
cloth
glancing
behind me from time
to time
into a void of churchy spires
and soft
blue
I think
I know
the barman among the tobyjugs
is dumbly
mouthing the secret words
IS
HE
BOTHERING
YOU?

it is
slightly pouring down outside
and inside I am shaking my
head
trying hard
not
to laugh
for
if I laugh or suggest
a smile
the man in the jacket
squelching beside me
who introduced himself to me nicely
will bash me with an iron bar
over
my head which will crunch
crack
in front of everyone
out
for a chat in familiar surroundings
safe
secure
just like he didn’t do before
to somebody else he insists
He is
just out of Barlinnie
I am
glancing behind me from time
to
time
into a void of churchy blue
and soft
spires
I thought I
knew
so well So wrong

 

 

rolled

trousers to knees and
danced a weird waltz.

Chucked bangers at club-feet,
snow at girls’ faces,
crisp bags full of frogspawn slop.

Sat among rocks, wore Harlequin socks,
rabbit ear collars and baratheas, spat
on the heads of waggy yap dogs
allowed to run free by owners.
Rolled

jumper sleeves to elbows
and pretended to be Thalidomide.
Smoked
singles
bought from ice-cream vans,
scuffed mushy leaves with best shoes, kicked
puddle-twigs at the dumb sun as the wind
swiped through branches, scurried
among big shadows.
Tumbled,

yelling, from dizzy swish roundabouts,
pelted the swans in the dam with cans,
tore the pages from brainyboy’s books
then tipped his schoolbag upside down,
lit fires just for the hell of it, splashed
scruffy steam gold against the oaks
that had seen it all before.

Ate banana and marmite rolls
as gloom curdled in the cloakroom.
Looked at photos of whopper breasts,
studied photos of open legs,
fell over each other to sniff

the future.
Fumbled
in panties at puberty parties,
swallowed Pale Ale, Newcastle Brown,
Pernod and Old Tawny Eldo cocktails.
Gathered at night to sit on walls
or topple sun-dials onto grass.
Made scratchy marks on sheds and lamp-posts,
squirted stinking, chemist perfumes
onto clothes of teeth-brace boys,
spluttered over thick Panatellas,
dropped lit matches into postboxes.
Said the words ‘fanny’, ‘gobble’ and ‘spunk’,
spooned in shagalley toothpaste dark,
fell over each other to reach

the sex.
Grew

hair long, got it chopped off,
did everything wrong, everything
right,
and skated,
laughing
into the void, fell over
each other to ask

the time.
Rolled

trousers to knees and
danced a daft can-can.
Rolled back to ankles, hobbled
for home, the whipped

cream of Scotland’s Dream.

 

 

between
the sublime curved
hump of snow
that has grown
onto the bent back
of
ornithologist and poet
Alexander Wilson
who gazes benignly
at the bird he
has just shot

and
the thick white wig
that has sewn itself
onto the tragic
green weathered head
of
weaver and poet
Robert Tannahill
who clutches tightly
the lapel of
his frock coat

a-not-as-young-as-
he-used-to-be me
is petrified

in the process
of
slipping, falling
over
and breaking
the bottle of wine
in my Oddbins bag
as
two happy children
laugh and point