Old Young Man.
Unemployment. Rising prices
Never bothered me before
Now, struggling for subsistance
I slowly realised my wasted years
steeped in ignorance
The brashness of youth has gone
Leaving behind an emptiness
not easy to define
Old before my time
I yearn for contentment
Where has the young lad gone
That angry young man
That shook his fist in careless anger
At any unfair society?
Shall we ever see him again
Write Nice Things.
last night
as I sat by my typewriter
a junkie
climbed in my window,
I was writing a poem
a very interesting little poem
about a flower that I'd seen
that day,
the junkie battered my wife
stole all of our money
and when he left
took with him
my television set
and my hi fi unit,
this unfortunate little incident
rather disturbed me
it really put me off writing
my little poem
about the birds and bees
and the flower that I'd seen
so, I wrote about the wind and the trees
instead
Two of John McGarrigle's poems from his little book, Glasgow's McGarrigle. Fat Cat Publications, ISBN 187 1009 014
Two John McGarrigle poems, from http://www.radicalglasgowblog.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/the-clutha-and-john-mcgarrigle.html