Flit
If there’s ever an honest poverty A virgin voyage on tempest sea Tae dig in pillaged dirt Graft cane tae plundered pewter Grams lashed anothers shackelled hand. A man’s a man for aw that? Well no back broke in the plantations. We understand ye didnae go Although ye might have longed it so Midnight flit by a spiritous flirt Wae too many weans and Too many debts tae mention The ruins of that machine lie rubbled, Atlantic puddled 2 million human skeletons high And you were born with choice to float or die Did ye hate it? Cause ye wore it as adventure Ye wore it as solution Ye wore it like your Redcoat Her majesty’s constitution Of a pompous moontide We offer you – Dried blood courting sgian dubh Mouths whisky vexed wae excuses Slaebbering how ye had tae Ye were in an awfy muddle So spit ye out Sip ye fae crystal glasses Twit wit laiden musings Commit pen tae paper Permit temderness tae your letters Where there was none Dishonour auld scripts This destiny knitted Between crown and whip A silence sits grit rotting At poet teeth While we gift ye names Laureate Lover Libertine Bard Never thief So we are complicit too.
About this poem
This poem was commissioned by the Scottish Poetry Library for Burns Day 2022.
