New year foghorns
sound,
booming midnight
over the Clyde,
vibrating hard
against
the sooty clouds’ cover,
as whisky and coal
dart door to door
around
damp tenements.
Boots muddied
by the damp glaur
clump through
oil-greased puddles
as couples
in collars-up coats
yatter
excitedly
over the boats
bullfrog belching.
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