Tae a Fert

by | Feb 18, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

Oh, whit a sleekit, horrible beastie,
Lurks in yer stomach efter a feastie.
As ye sit doon among yer kin,
There starts tae stir an’ enormous wind.
The neeps an’ tatties an’ mushy peas
Stert workin’ like a gentle breeze.
But soon the puddin’ wi’ the sonsie face
Will huv ye blawin’ a’ ower the place.
Naw matter whit the hell ye dae
A’body gonnae huv tae pay.
Even if ye try tae stifle
It’s like a bullet oot a rifle.
Haud yer erse tight tae the chair
Tae try an’ stop the leakin’ air.
Shift yersel’ fae cheek tae cheek
An’ pray tae god it disnae reek.
But a’ yer efforts go asunder,
Oot it comes like a clap o’ thunder.
It ricochets aroon’ the room
Michty me, a sonic boom.
Gidness me, it fairly reeks,
Ah hope ah hivnae keich ma breeks.
Straight tae the bog ah better scurry
Whit the hell, it’s nae ma worry.
A’body roon aboot me’s chokin’
One or two are nearly bokin’.
Ah’ll feel much better fur a while
Ah cannae help but raise a smile.
“wis him” ah shout, wi accusin’ glower
alas, too late. He’s just keeled ower.
“ya dirty bugger”, they shout and stare
Ah dinnae feel welcome ony mair.
Where e’re ye be, let yer wind gang free
Soond advice for thee and me.
Whit a fuss at rabbie’s perty
Ower the sake o’ one wee ferty


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