Monday, 13 October 2008

Sonnets of Wigan - No 1

Shall I compare thee to a Wigan day?
Thou art more filthy and far less ornate:
Rough birds do shake my massive spuds of spray,
And my Johnny Bag hath too short a date:
Sometimes too hot the eye of plonker shines,
And oft' is his purple headed bulb dimm'd;
And every bird from Ince sometime declines,
By chance or more crabs changing minge untrimm'd:
But thy eternal dole cheque shall not fade
Nor lose currency of thou sweaty breast;
Nor shall Death brag thou fat arse in his shade,
When in eternal pies to belly thou growest:

So long as Brocol House gives free money,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

The Bard of Wigan

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