I know it's supposed to be a poem-a-day throughout April, and there already has been one, but I just received this from a comrade and due to the solemnity of this day, I thought that this one should be read.
New poem by Rab Wilson
The Lanely Daith o Maggie
Thatcher
The day they’re mindin her wi hauf-mast
flags,
Neist week they’ll spend ten million oan her
kistin,
Whiles Tony Blair, wi grief his een are mistin,
Nae
dout he’ll bray wi aa the ither windbags,
Wha’ll gaither in
the House tae sing her praise;
They’ll deftly whitewaash ower
Pinochet,
Mandela’s refusal tae jine her fir some tea....
But
frien ah’ve mind o ither lang-gane days,
New Cumnock here in
Ayrshire aince wis bien,
Wi pits an factories pourin wages in,
Nou
evriwhaur ye luik the place is duin,
Her ‘legacy’ tae us? a
thing obscene!
Her room’s redd-up an trig nou at the Ritz
–
Mercat forces wull see she isnae missed.
No comments:
Post a Comment