By Cyrus Alexander
Huv ye ever heard ae anyhing as wild
As a cult leader Scotsman?
Tannin’ Buckie to keep ye in line
Keepin’ ye fed and full ae shine
He’d huv a big castle in Nairn
Wae plenty ae bonnie wives
Sellin’ dud Irn-Bru for cash
And takin’ absolutely nae snash
They’d aww worship Rabbie Burns
And pray tae him daily
Singin’ “Great chieftain o the puddin’-race!”
Til’ they wur blue in the face
Fur tea it wid be haggis and Scotch
Wae Mackie’s fur afters
Makin’ everyhing oot ae tartan
N dancin’ wae some bloke cawd Martin
Nae tunes except Bits N Pieces
And maybe a bit ae Biffy
Takin’ Glesga by storm oan a Seturday night
Tryin’ no tae set the danceflair alight
Noo read this n tell me
In wan honest word
Wid it no set yer heart a-prancin’
Havin’ a Scottish Charlie Manson?
I am a Scottish writer based in Glasgow. Having written for various journalistic publications about science fiction and technology, I now find myself branching out into creative fiction. I am endlessly fascinated by ancient and contemporary history, and the weird and wonderful stories scattered throughout—from Troy’s Trojan horses to L.A.’s comet-riding cults. Nothing is stranger than real life, and it is that sort of realist surrealism I try to bring to my writing.
Silk + Smoke 