Poem of the week : Goonie

Goonie

Sahtirdey night, up thi Gorbals tap dancer n
Glesga’s a dork glimmer ootside thi windaes.
Me, gettin ready fur ma turn, spurred oan bi ma Aunt.
Stage curtains ae blue mist, made fae thi fumes ae her umpteenth snout.
She’s gied me this goonie tae wear, polyester, hoat pressed wae thi wurk troosers.
It’s saft-bobblet, wee fabric flooers opaque wae wahshes, a smirr n a cauld bloom.
The power ae a manky goonie, cracklin er skin,
a cutty sark in a rain cloud. Stampin oot thi beat
tae an auld Abba Gold number. Ma audience ur bashin
oot claps. Cotton n polyester scratchin at ma anklets. A floral
ghoulie, spirallin roon, a birlin saftness through smogs ae Silk Cut.
Ma aunt raisin her Vodka Irn Bru, a tumblr ae noxious flame, a toast
tae me, n ma frilly jig. Awk A jist lettum wear witever he wahnts tae wear.
Ma uncle hummin alang wae Agnetha n Anna-frid, thiy’ve goat season tickets, fur
this weekly cabaret. Thi music fades as feet cease, right aht’s yer whack, son, c’mere
n coorie in, afore the telly gets turnt back oan, jist in time – Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

 

Michael Mullen is a queer spoken word artist, writer and poet from Rutherglen, who writes in both English and Scots.

 

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