Salmond Chanted Evening ...
some poems on the Scottish referendum, 2014

(click here for I Shall Vote Aye
and here for The Green 'Aye' of the Independent Scot)

Referendum Poem and you can see me 'performing' it by clicking here!

According to the Scottish Mail,
Yer jobs're doomed, yer crops'll fail,
Yer bairns will all end up in jail,
If youse vote 'Aye';
Yer teeth'll rot, yer pies turn stale
And then ye'll die.

The 'Salmond' will replace the pound
(Wan hunnerd 'Sturgeons', I'll be bound);
Its value, mair dire than its sound,
Will plunge in stages,
Till just tae buy yer pals a round
Tak's three month's wages.

If Darling's pleas are a' rejected,
Mandat'ry kilts will be inspected,
And men wi' pants will be ejected
Frae this fair land.
If wily Alex gets elected,
Sex will be banned.

Och, swallow a' this propaganda,
A' this pathetic trumped-up slander,
Ye'd think this place the next Ruanda,
Wi'out a doot;
And even Embra's baby panda
Wad get kicked oot!

But don't assume the ither lot
Are ony better, 'cos they're not;
Wi' their rose-tinted tommy-rot
An' tartan shite.
What chance has puir wee Scotty got
Tae choose aright?

So I'm no saying 'Aye' or 'Nae',
Or tryin' tae tell ye which damn way,
On thon braw, bricht September day,
Ye ought tae go;
It's no fer Sassenachs tae say,
Based here or no.

But, Ah'm a man o' Northern bent,
Whose folk they London powers resent,
And offer no encouragement,
So please tek 'eed:
Let yer new border be the Trent
Not just the Tweed!

19/9/13


I Shall Vote Aye
In memory of Christopher Logue

I shall vote Aye because
   God drinks 18-year-old Laphroaig
I shall vote Aye because
   'Yes' is a Sassenach word
I shall vote Aye because
   I am not on a diet
I shall vote Aye in the hope of
   replacing Flower of Scotland with something less shite
I shall vote Aye because
   upper class hoorays are voting No
I shall vote Aye because
   if I don't Alistair Darling will still be my MP

AND

I shall vote Aye because
   I want Scotland to stop being so goddam Scottish
I shall vote Aye because
   I am an awkward bastard
I shall vote Aye because
   my teddy bear looks like Alex Salmond
I shall vote Aye because
   if I do not vote Aye my arse will freeze
I shall vote Aye because
   I cannot hold down a relationship
I shall vote Aye because
   I want to see Big Tam Connery delivering milk in Fountainbridge once more
I shall vote Aye because
   I want to invent the perfect Buckfast cocktail
I shall vote Aye because
   Nicola Sturgeon has promised me a blowjob
I shall vote Aye because
   I own two kilts and a Black Watch glengarry
I shall vote Aye because
   all the main Westminster parties say I shouldn't
I shall vote Aye because
   Scotsmen thump burning terrorists
I shall vote Aye because
   by birth and upbringing
      I am English

(2014)

In 1968 Chris Logue wrote I Shall Vote Labour for The New Statesman


The Green 'Aye' of the Independent Scot
(apologies to J Milton Hayes)

There's a lonely little bench just to the East of Embra Zoo,
There's a view across the golf course to the town,
There's a broken-hearted lassie who is not sure what to do
When that bloody referendum comes around

She was fond of Mad Carew, but she wouldn't let him screw;
Though she wanted to, she didn't think she should,
'Cos referendum day was near, and she wanted to be clear
What he wanted, how he felt and where he stood.

Oh, it all seemed such a mess, would we keep the NHS,
Keep Her Majesty, but maybe lose the pound?
Would our haggises all spoil, being cooked in North Sea Oil,
Or would it be the other way around?

Could we build a fair society, which she'd really like to do,
Or would we lose our pensions, jobs and cash?
When she asked for helpful input from her darling Mad Carew
All he said was, 'Nay lass, let us not be rash;'

'There are many arguments, and each has its share o' sense,
'We cannae simply rush in, daft and blind;
'I can see it from each side', was a thing he said with pride,
While she wished the prat would just make up his mind.

They walked up Corstorphine Hill, but at heart she felt quite ill;
She paused as he went striding on ahead.
But when she reached the seat she turned white as any sheet
Poor Mad Carew was sitting there quite dead.

His kilt was flapping wildly and his knees were turning blue;
When she saw him she was rooted to the spot
A tiny badge was pinned upon the chest of Mad Carew
'Twas the green 'aye' of the independent Scot!

There's a lonely little bench just to the East of Embra Zoo
There's a view across the golf course to the town
There's a broken-hearted lassie who is not sure what to do
When that bloody referendum comes around

(Sep 2014)