For a cool interview with the author Ian McMillan, click here
From under t’canal like a watter-filled cellar
Coming up like a pitman from a double’un, twice,
I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly
He said ‘Them nights are drawing in’
Down’t stairs like a gob-machine, sucking toffees,
up a ladder like a ferret up a ladder in a fog,
He said ‘Half a dozen eggs’
Over’t top in’t double-decker groaning like a whippet
like a lamp lighter’s daughter in a barrel-full of milk,
He said ‘Night’s a dozen eggs’
Down t’canal like a barrow
full of Gillis’s parsnips
coming up like a cage of men in lit-up shiny hats,
I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly’
He said ‘Half a dozen nights’
Under t’canal on a pushbike glowing like an eggshell
Up a ladder wi’ a pigeon and a broken neck,
I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly’
He said ‘I feel like half a dozen eggs’
Over t’night on a shiny bike wi’ a lit-up hat,
Perfect for’t poorly wi’ heads like eggs.
I said, ‘Hey, you died last week’
He said ‘Aye, did you miss me?’
This is such a fun poem. At first I couldn't make much sense of it, but I guess that's the point. The author is using Yorkshire cliches, and he says one of the reasons he writes is to play with language. This poem plays with language and is a funny take on a dying man/ghost.
ReplyDeleteI needed the author's commentary to understand this poem better. In fact, I only fond the poem because I listened to this podcast on writing. But rereading after listening to the talk makes it a poem worth reading and thinking about.