1981–1990 | |
Poem:
Alasdair Gray © 2005 | |
And Meg was his nasty old wife, They hated none more than the other, They lived in contention and strife. He battered her when he was sober, She kickit him when he was drunk, The broken-nosed toothless old gangrels Yelled, fought, fornicated and stunk. He glowered at each look that she gave him, She spat at each word that he uttered, Each hated the other so hotly, They didnae think other folk mattered. When one broke their neck in a tumble, (It doesnae now matter just which) The tither, with naebody else to detest, Starved to death in the very same ditch. |
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