Night Out In Glasgow By Meron McCardle

handing pieces of my soul to people on the streets dragging my heart along the footpath racing to catch the bus fumes belch into the air caught in the breeze of misplaced misnomers

embarrassing missteps down curbs recently vomited on the big the brawn the muscles of men in Celtic scarves and heartsick scars nobody talks about wounds splayed in the ruts of the road secrets spill from streetlights reaching out for scraggly weeds fighting their way through the cracks in the asphalt