The 25th of January

The 25th of January
(To be read, out loud, in an earwax-meltingly strong Salford accent)

 

Is that an honest, sonsie face
On my chieftain of the puddin’ race
Staring back from on my plate
Of neeps and tatties?
Eaten on my birthday late
A portion of haggis

I knew about Burns since I was seventeen
But Rabbie’s verses always seemed
Impossible for me to glean
Any feeling
From a language that had been
Deemed demeaning

Then I discovered that J-C-C
Could share his birthday cake with me
And maybe together we could be
Celebrating wins
On the twenty-fifth of January
As poetry twins

But I’ve never met the Salford Bard
And I find his accent hard
So I’ll play the comedy card
When the air gets colder
Keeping my softer side under guard
Another year older

 

January 2024

 

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