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Robert Marsland
Gladness is a place called Glasgow

a burst of gladness came upon me as I
alighted the train at Queen Street in Glasgow
I don’t know why
perhaps it was the girl with the sexy bottom in jeans
walking in front of me down the platform
and the realisation that I could never have her,
no matter how hard I tried
or perhaps it was just being back in town after
slagging the place off and saying how terrible
it was only an hour or so before
and instead feeling that I belong here
for better or worse, despite my half-hearted
threats of moving to Edinburgh.

These thoughts are echoed on the bus
on the way back to Victoria Road. I feel
one of these people, these multifarious, many-raced,
hetero and homosexual peoples. These educated, illiterate,
happy and soulful peoples. I am a smattering of them
and I am proud.






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