Christmas comes early at Poplar lane pt.1

 I'm the only beggar that knows. 

Here.. this side of the town.. the ones who don't know. Earning peanuts. 

Over to Causewayside, long walk, very long walk.  Might get change for a bus. But so be it. 


I have my kit made up first thing. Got Chucky the night before. Aye the same the past 3 days, but my pal knows I'm good for it. 

He gets the stuff -Barry stuff -up wester hailes way. Dead light in the spoon... proper rock! Barry charge. Cooks up and it's all that vinegar in my room. Christmas Eve in Poplar Lane. 

Takes me fifteen minutes to find myself. I've been jaggin twenty years and I'm down on the inside of my legs! Horrible, ghastly mate.. I'm streaming in blood, but I feel right now. Cheers Robbie boy. Good mate. 

Then again, I've sorted him out enough times already. All of them I have. All the other cunts in this place. 

That Monty two doors down! I was along at his door just last night before I got tic. Knew he was in there-could smell him! The cameras in the hallway glaring down at me.. fuck sake. Back to my room. No luck. Everyone avoids you when it suits them.

Along the sad white hallway.

Sitting with the Tv in the dark- old gear piled up at one end.. against the shoddy cupboard that's spewing out the rest of it...

This morning though.. Barry.


By 1100 (army time- I was in the army 20 year) 

But what you said jagged

(see you...)



So by 1100, at the pitch. Sleet the day... Sitting there with the army bag. Old thing. 

Mary comes up:

"Simon.. ooohh what a day.. Christmas Eve as well.. I'm just away into buy a few thinggg..."

Off she goes whining away. I'm nodding along, "how's the grandkids?" "Family round the day?" 

Sitting on the pavement. Wet breeks and my nose streaming- Cannae be rattling.


"So me and the girls were actually thinking of visiting over January..."

Blah blah 

I'm trailing off now... That purse ey hers. Barry. My eyes fixed. fixed on it! 

Just get a move on hen 

I've turned into a right bastard. Fuckin freezing. 

Cash in the hat. Pocketed. Just like a hit watching the hand go in the purse.. lottery numbers! 

What'll it be??? Yippee. Nothing like the tummy tickle of watching a crisp note on the way up!

-A twenty n aw!

Back on the ham n egg. What can you do?


I've gotta score here someone's gonna be down any minute. Sitting in a dank wee stairwell down dumbiedykes. This boy I'm with- doin ma nut- I'm pacing pacing Cannae help it. C'mon you fucker- where are ye??!

Out comes the laddie- wi the score - yeehawww! Clasp it clasp it tight in the hands. Cling film soggy saliva film tight between the fingers. Look at this deliverance. Like a saint!

Me n ma new pal giddy as fuck. Glee in the face and arms embracing we dance a merry go round.

 "That's a fuckin Christmas present!!" We belt out. 

That fuckers already got his spoon- I'm tearing the vit and the specks of acid scatter over the window cill.

Burst open the bag. Kit on the filter.


Dumbiedykes Flats


At that I see... A Christmas tree... Far down in the houses below..

Tinsel and twinkles they sparkle with life as mine drifts off and beyond..


I get myself in seconds. The scars on my legs still raw from this morning. The chance of that!

 Thank you God. 

Seasonal greetings up here on the 9th floor. This laddie I'm with's gouchin.. totally out- do I fuckin leave him? Hard hard strong gouch. My eyes are on the way down. 

Get a hold of yerself Simon! Fucksake...

I scrape spoons and pins on the steps. Hard concrete steps- brutally cold ya cunt! It's quiet up here though. Away from all that. The brown powder feels like vinegar and tickles behind the eyes.

Sat for 6 hours on ma arse. Sodden. Cars blaring by, kids on the way home with the dad.. endless hoping for a drop. 10p- 10£. 


Thank you Mary my love, auld dear.











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