Power station

Shortly before noon

Two chimney stacks fell in,

The rest to follow soon.

Eyes picked out like ravens do to lambs,

Blinded from sight of the body blows yet to begin

Doomed, condemned and waiting to die.

The site of a battle at Presetonpans,

The crowd for demolition day

Waited from afar and was underwhelmed

By the silent, now stationary power

That stole a cold, grey hour from the living.

And didn’t go boom.

Someone said that ‘Cock’ showed on the national grid display

And that lit us up on the way back to Leith.


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