And leave me like a mixture o’
A wee Scotch nicht and Judgment Day,
The bile, the Bible, and the Scotsman,
Poetry and pigs—Infernal Thistle,
Damnition haggis I’ve spewed up,
And syne return to like twa dogs!
Blin’ Proteus wi’ leafs or hands
Or flippers ditherin’ in the lift
—Thou Samson in a warld that has
Nae pillars but your cheengin’ shapes