Robin Fulton grew up in Scotland, spending almost four decades on both sides of the Highland Line. His father’s people were from the Borders, his mother’s from Sutherland and Caithness. He attended primary school on Arran and in Glasgow, secondary school at Golspie in Sutherland, and took an M.A. and Ph.D. at Edinburgh University. He has been a resident of Norway for three decades, living in a way on both sides of the North Sea.
BOOKS OF POETRY
Instances (Edinburgh: Macdonald, 1967); Inventories (Thurso: Caithness Books, 1969); The Spaces between the Stones (New York: Three Rivers Press, 1971); The Man with the Surbahar (Edinburgh: Macdonald, 1971); Tree-Lines (New York: New Rivers Press, 1974); Between Flights (Egham, Surrey, England: Interim Press, 1976); Selected Poems 1963-1978 (Edinburgh: Macdonald, 1980); Following a Mirror (London: Oasis Books, 1980); Fields of Focus (London: Anvil Press, 1982); Coming Down to Earth…(London: Oasis Books/Plymouth, England: Shearsman Books, 1990); From a High Window (London: Oasis Books, 2002); Homing (London: Oasis, 2003); Supplement to Poetry Scotland (Callandar: 2003)
╬Winner of the PIP Gertrude Stein Awards for Innovative Poetry in English
an afterlife. Brick walls repointed
how often, a few trees recognised
now large-scale, décor inside so-so,
as in my time, meant to look not old
not new. In a gap between moments
that threatens never to close again
I have no present tense. There’s no room
left in the past for more of the past.
Much has fallen into the future,
which never stops containing nothing.
It’s an oyster-catcher – screeching out
of a present tense which leaves no space
for past or future – that breaks apart
this afterlife I’m no longer in.
Once more I’m hurrying towards it.
Reprinted from Painted, spoken, no. 8 (2005). Copyright ©2005 by Robin Fulton.