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Let’s Hear Whit the Dragon’s Goat Tae Say |
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by Liz Niven
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2:00 |
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Listen
It’s no gonnie be easie this.
If ye think it’s a skoosh case ye’re wrang.
A’ve been ettlin tae mak masel heard fir yonks
An naebodie a mean naebodie listens.
A’ve goat ma shades, ma ipod, ma Nokia
An a’ve stoapt spittin fire.
Soon as the taxi boays stoapt gobbi a stoapt.
Solidarity brithers eh?
We need tae work thegither if this kintra’s gan oniewhaur.
An damsels. Dinna tak tae me aboot wummen.
Furst aff there’s no enough o them.
Mind how it yaised tae be. Boays wir the bees knees.
Needit for the fairmin, liftit heavy stuff.
Shilpit lassies wirnae wantit. Cannae dae the joabs. Dochters wir droont.
Mair boather than they wir wirth awbodie said.
An no thir’s no enough o them!
A havenae had a damsel in distress fir years
An onie thit there is his left the kintraside.
Tellin ye they’re aw aff tae the Jing,
Meetin whiteys. Makin a fortune. Big joabs.
Thir no likely tae gan oot wi wee reuch an readie fermers boays
wi stra in thir bunnets, never mind merry them?
Aw naw. Whit a boorach.
Whaur’s it gonnie end? That’s whit a’m askin.
There’ll be a population crisis that’s whit. A demographic stooshie.
Wan wean policie? Hauf the time it’s a nae wean policie.
Aw thae lahdedah citie wummen.
Teeterin aboot wi thir heich heels an perjink wee cocktail frocks.
They’re no wantin weans.
Mair lik wantin a dug. Twa dugs.
Bow wow mao.
Wee white Pekinese things
Ye see tham aw ower the Jing,
mincin aboot oan thir wee kiddie oan feet.
No even worth poppin oan a cocktail stick.
Nae eatin in them..
Mind that’s aw been chyngin an aw.
Haurdlie onie dug an donkey restaurant onie mair.
The West doesnae like it, they’re seyin.
The West doesnae like it?
The West can tak a rin an jump tae itsel
A’ll tell you this,
It’ll no much maitter soon whit the West wants.
Fowerhunnerandsixtemillion mobile phone yaisers.
Fiftyechtmillion mair nor last year Eh?
An caurs. Jeeso.
Dinna get me stertit oan yon.
Gie’s a brek. Ye can come back tae me oan that yin.
A’m awa tae licht up
A need A fag. At least ye can still hiv a fag inside ower here.
Liz Niven is an award-winning Scottish poet. Her collection, "The Shard Box" was published in 2010 by Luath Press Ltd. Edinburgh. She is Literary Death Match Beijing's reigning champion.
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