A reading from the StAnza poetry festival, 2007
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.