Wednesday, 2 December 2020
I was recently asked by the amazing Scots Language Centre to write a poem for the festive period. So, without further ado, this is my fun look back at the shitshow that was 2020 in Scots!
“It’s a war,” Mammy said.
Nae wan knows whit goes oan behind closed doors.
Stay at hame. Protect the NHS. Save lives.
We’ve fought oan aw fronts
And ah’m tired
We’re aw tried
O this world turnt upside doon.
Granda would’ve hud ten kittens
If he’d lived tae see
Every pub in Glasgae shut.
“Puck the Rhona, bloody pint snatcher.”
A disgruntled shake o the heid.
“Even this didnae happen durin the Blitz!”
“Tae hell wi any law that keeps me fae ma church!”
Granny would’ve said.
Convinced prayers can move mountains.
God’s gat his work cut oot fur him this year.
“Zoom? That’s an even dafter name than Facebox.”
Oor pals, family, are absent.
Hidin behind screens
Memories and ghosts fur company.
We must dae oor bit fur the world.
‘Breathless’ blastin fae car windaes in March.
A rare laugh heidin back fae the hospital.
‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ through foggy November streets.
But we’re still here.
Oor ain story fur the grandweans.
Mammy’s always coonted
The world’s blessings.
“We’ve seen the back o that gabshite in the White Hoose.”
Watched the internet proclaim,
“Melania, yer finally free!”
Nae first footers this year,
Wur no riskin o that unwelcome guest.
Jackie Bird can gie it laldy fae a distance
And we’ll huv a dram
A toast tae better days tae come.
P.S. If you are London-based and would like to see my latest Scots story performed by Liars' League, tickets are available for purchase here: https://www.liarsleague.com/liars_league/2020/12/christmas-event-heart-soul-tuesday-8th-december.html