She was truly glamorous At least that’s how I’ll always remember her She’d tease and spray her bouffant with care Before leaving for the afternoon Pubs closed at three back then Officially re-opening at five But often as not there was a lock-in Morphing afternoon, into evening, into night … A stagger to the bus stop My shame for all to see Her bouffant flat and listless Her trousers now holed in one knee This could be perceived as a sad story Of a woman losing herself to drink But this woman was nobody’s victim She would not be belittled or diminished Nor browbeaten by duplicitous do-gooders None of whom would ever do any good No priest, no neighbour, no family or friends Alone she survived her husband’s death Goodbye 1970s You really could be cruel You Sectioned those bereaved You treated grief with ECT But I knew someone trapped in your game She escaped She won She remained glamorous to the end

Just another Friday night Or so it seemed We met at the Variety as usual We were all suitably preened Each of us with absent partners But then again what did that matter We can all look but we can’t touch We’re always blurring real and imagined worlds Too many drinks far too fast But that’s the machismo we honour I have to be home by eleven Because I’ve commitments tomorrow And like clockwork we stumble Into the familiar Sleazy’s Where we watch impudent pups with ageless guitars Laughing and throwing their youth right in our faces It’s doubles now And they’re followed by doubles for chasers Hours fly by, as they always do It’s amid zombie-phone distractions And nostalgic conversations I remember someone being sick Was that me? I’m not sure? The again, what’s a Friday night Without sick on your shoes? I call it a night And I make my excuses Hey guys, I’ve got a train to catch Remember guys, I promised … What happened? I don’t understand? How did I get here? My face pressed against the concrete My view is a sea of shoes In close-up, there’s a cigarette butt, alight and poisoning It’s bright glow stamped out amid a rabble of voices It’s Sauchiehall Street, Saturday the 15th June, 4.16am I was pronounced dead