Agnes on Karaoke

Thon wiz a magic evenin aff -

went intae Ingrams doon oan the squerr

ken, whaur the gaffer's a right wee nyaff

but the karaoke - aw it's rerr.

We'd a coarner table, Ina an me

an we wisny gauny sing at aa

but efter a malibu or three

weel ye canny help yersel. It's braw

wi the flashy lights an the great big screen

an aa the wurds gaun by like yon

an big fat Tammy, ken wha ah mean

wi the plukes, that does Roy Orbison

tae a T, when he's hud a dacent bevvy.

Ina wiz near tae havin a greet.

Ah like the wan aboot drove ma chevvy

an thon yin dancin in the street.

So me an Ina gets up thegither

the gaffer gies ye an extra mike.

Done he ain't heavy he's mabrither.

Gied it a load o welly like.

The Fatted Porker

I liked the lad. He always had a smile,
a whistle on his lips, and used to wait
and watch us eat. Oh, you can call it swill
but I'm not proud. For if it comes to that
I've cracked the windfall, fresher from the moss
than all your snow-cooled fare. I've savoured shoots
that daylight never blessed. But let it pass -
I liked him. He was generous with the oats.
Not like his brother there, a walking blight
on man and pig alike, his only care
is his inheritance. I saw the hate
spark in his eye. The young one's travelled far
to find cold comfort from his kin. But still
they'll come for me. I know which one I'd kill.

Travellers

No crash, no broken glass, no injury.
A mild derailment, quiet loss of power
or small mechanical catastrophe,
enough to leave us stranded for an hour,
is all I ask. The driver will explain
politely to three hundred fretting souls
how trivial the loss, how rare the gain
in marking time by Mirton-under-Moles,
at which we acquiesce, and one by one
find friends behind each dull commuting stare -
fierce devotees of Guardian and Sun
in temporary comradeship. Aware
of precious company and circumstance,
we talk, we two. There is no room to dance.