Poetry

Privy

In the garden’s shaded corner, A modest privy waits, its timber worn, Oak planks scarred by rain and thunder, A humble throne where thoughts are born. The door swings soft on iron

Dundee United

In Tannadice’s emerald heart, The Terrors stride with stubborn art— A sea of tangerine and black, Where hope and history intertwine, they track. From Dundee’s fierce northern clime, They chase each ball through

Feign

Feign In quiet rooms where shadows play, We learn to feign a smile each day, A mask of silk, a whispered lie, To hide the storm that brews inside. We wear

Gripe

In a quiet café, steam curls like thought, A gripe rises, soft, like mist on a London morn. The tea’s too weak, the scone a tad too scone‑like, And the wifi sighs, refusing

Sixty-Four failed Attempts to guess a Wi-Fi Password

Sixty‑four failed attempts to guess the Wi‑Fi password, Each keystroke a quiet hope, each error a soft sigh. I tried “password123”, then “admin”, then “letmein”, The router blinked its amber lights,

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