Northwords Now

New writing, fresh from Scotland and the wider North
Sgrìobhadh ùr à Alba agus an Àird a Tuath

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Nae Nemesis

by Hugh McMillan

I’ve aye wunnert why Philomela
didnae chynge tae a beir
an byte aff Tereus’ bas,
or a bull wha micht hae bluitert them
sae far up his airse they’d hae lantit
in his mooth fur brakfast,
no that he cud hae haed ony,
 
wi his heid hingin aff eftir yon leopard
she could hae bin got haud o him.
While lassies were kilt,
forcet or rent apairt, plucked their ain
een oot or lowped ower
cliffs, yon soor sho’oer o bastirts
the Greek goads moont aroon
 
brousin thru the Olympian Guide
tae Flora and Fauna, matchin the roll ca
o the deid tae dowlie  soons o nichtingails
wee trees or licht hertit wather formations.
Wummin turnt intae birdsang
so poetry luvin hoplites could scrieve
some verse atween rap and murther.

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