So here is my most immediate attempt at, not an elegy, but at representing what he means to me. It's a poem made from words found in the brochure of the Royal Exchange theatre, words strangely capitalised in the paragraphs advertising the plays. As I was mucking around with the words on the back of the bus home, it occurred to me that it would be the kind of thing that he would do, and suddenly it came to seem apt to dedicate it to him:
EXCHANGE SESTINA i.m. Edwin MorganI hope it's the kind of thing that Edwin Morgan, bricolouer, poet and experimenter, would approve of.