O to be an angel
Do whatever you're told
Preen each other's wingtips
Grin your set of gold
I'd rather be a demon
Ploughing through the glaur
Whistling to my fellows
What against is for
Against is not for nothing
Against is drive a nail
Against is draw a crown down
Fill a quaich with hail
So hail to all high water
The maelstrom and the pit
You'll never hear a harpstring
If we can smuggle it
Away from the high heavens
And tease it out to bind
Every gasping evangelist
Right out of his mind
For we are merry dancers
Through curtains of the dark
Feel us hear us fear us
When the dark begins to spark!
EDWIN MORGAN
From Demon, Glasgow: Mariscat Press, 1999
Mariscat Press
10 Bell Place
Edinburgh EH3 5HT
Scotland
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