0 Still Drawing (on) Riverside...

I've been looking at some of Edwin Morgan's poetry again after seeing Glasgow Sonnet V in The Herald Arts section on Saturday. Lesley Duncan never fails to enlighten.

This poem made me think about Patricia Cain's Drawing (on) Riverside exhibition again.

Glasgow Sonnet No 1
By Edwin Morgan

A mean wind wanders through the backcourt trash.
Hackles on puddles rise, old mattresses
puff briefly and subside. Play-fortresses
of brick and bric-a-brac spill out some ash.
Four storeys have no windows left to smash,
but the fifth a chipped sill buttresses
mother and daughter the last mistresses
of that black block condemned to stand, not crash.
Around them the cracks deepen, the rats crawl.
The kettle whimpers on a crazy hob.
Roses of mould grow from ceiling to wall.
The man lies late since he has lost his job,
smokes on one elbow, letting his coughs fall
thinly into an air too poor to rob.