The Jewel Of Ullapool

I arrived needy,

I was thirsty for all.
For all things

I had been
nine days...

And so I showered,
swiftly soaping off
the wilderness.

I ate,
and I drank.
I chatted
to Glasgow women
who were thirsty
for a mountain man,
someone other
than a schemie.

And so the waitress
and the climber

I remember being drunk
and smashing her head
into the slipway.

She was slightly stunned
and I was shocked.
My arms had slipped,
no, my limbs
had an episode.
No action of mine.

All I wanted
was to smooth her,
not to hurt her

And she'd been through it
In Glasgow
High up
In the towers

And she knew it

And she knew
It wasn't meant

And so we kissed
As the sea kissed our feét
And we partied
With the others
All of them pissed
The service staff
From Glasgow
THere, in Ullapool's
Spring And missed
By the boys and mums
Of those glorious slums
Now parkland
Or some such other
Redeveloped for the games
The games we play
But where is she?
Her home's exploded
A 9/11 scene
And her childhood, dead
A concrete dust
Falling As she must
have, Down...

And we parted
From the others
As the night drew in.
She took my hand
And guided me
To her small box room
And single bed
And she carefully
Undressed me
As I nervously
And with little skill
Tore at her bra

No hostel bed for me
That night
But her bed
Squashed in

The next day she worked
And I worked
I worked through
My hangover and
siting Drinking coffee
I was spotted
By Connors mother
A lovely from Achnasheen
Visiting postcard beauty
and by chance
Me, And She said
"what are you doing here?'

And I chatted a wee while
But she had to move on
And I had somewhere
But I didn't really
And maybe
She didn't
Have to
And we should have so
Each other
With our connections,
Our selfless intentions

Can you miss
An acquaintance?

I met the waitress
From Glasgow
For a second night
And we drank
And we licked
And we sucked
And in the morning
I kissed her
As though
She were dying
And made my way
To Inverness
By ponderous coach
I bought A few cans
of McEwan's
And I sat on the bank
Of the rivers
shimmering bright
And reflected
Through my dead head
On how empty
How full
Scotland can be
And on how empty
How full are we
And my tinnies
Each one, once full,

And I worried
About the waitress
And for that day
Entertained the notion
A plan almost
Placed In motion
To return to the jewel
Of Ullapool.

And to my lasting regret
Although likely
For the best
I left her be
But she continues

Time without

Inside me.