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Between two Nowheres

Hey, don’t I know you? You

went to school with me.

It’s nice to see you after

all these years.

What have you

been doing all this time?

Oh, me? I’ve been working

down the line.

Too early to stop, but

I can dream of long holidays

in France or Italy with all the seniors who

have their lump sums and just want

to live the life they fantasised

about all their days of

slog, sweat and stress

of life

in the rat race, competing and

failing but continued trying

to make a mark, be somebody.

He told me he was living in Ireland, near the Giants


I wondered what he did

over there, maybe he is a pop star.

But no,

he’s a joiner, working

for the local council

repairing houses by the score, lots of broken

double glazed doors

He’s always meant to

get back home to Glasgow town where he

comes from.

I thought that he seemed okay, for a boy from

school who didn’t say much,

to having the courage to leave

his home town for pastures new,

when here I am

having never left Old Glasgow Town.

I really knew nothing

about him, did I?

So really, how can I say to

him, come here, and he wants me to go there.

Basically between two nowheres.

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