Ga

by Kevin Cormack

Laborare Est Orare
(To Labour is to Pray)

Reluctancy caad us tae Ga instead o you.
BOWIE bored intae his fore-erm
wae a school compass, dipped
in primordial blue-black,
back in the peelie-wallie day.

Ga’s eyes, wance the burneen sand
o a caereless welder, hid wept
thumsaels intae the light.
No metter hoo celestial the model
a bookie’s biro sufficed. Ga

keeked at the blueprints beneath
the flourescent street-sweeper
fishan oot bottles o bus drivers’ piss
fae anunder the faalse castor oil bushes.
Descended

oan the greasy spoon grundhog day café
whar wur eternally needy shadows hung oot.
Elsewharniss wis rife afore Ga:
brain-glaze, breathan in the Everbuild,
hammeran the pianos. Ga,

the guide tae draa gratitude an grip
fae wur universal zero oors contract.
I drew until I dreamt o me draaeens
an me dream, sinkan through the moss,
thrappled intae prayer.

_
peelie-wallie  sick, feeble, thin, off-colour
thrappled  choked