Kate O'Shanter's Tale by Matthew Fitt

Note: This poem doesn't make sense unless you know Rabbie Burns' Tale of Tam O'Shanter. Oh, and you must be able to understand Scots. Warning: Strong language:

Who'er this tale o' truth shall read,
Ilk man and mother's son take heed,
Whene'er tae drink ye are inclin'd
Or cutty sarks run in your mind,
Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear -
Remember Tam O'Shanter's mare.

Ye
ay, ye
ah waant a wurd wi ye
juist poppt in, duid ye
oan the wey hame fae wurk, wur ye
juist poppt in
fur a wee blethir, wus it
a cheerie chinway, eh
a quick hiya boys tae the smithie an the millar, eh
an a wee hauf o hevvie juist
tae keep juist
tae keep ye gaun, lyke

ay
but juist the ane tho
ay juist the ane
an a wee ane, mind
juist the wee, wee, wee, weeist ane
an then ye'r awa hame
ay
sulky sullen dame an aa that ken
ay
gaitherin hur broos, sae seh is
ay, juist the ane
gaitherin stoarm, ken
nursin hur wrath, whit
ay, juist ane bit
ay, nae bathir
ay
oh, ay
well, dinnae geis it, Shanter
juist dinnae geis it

ye cam in heir
fowre in the bliddy moarnan
an ye wur buckled
cuildnae staun
cuildnae speik
haverin a load ay keech, sae ye wur
tellin us hou ye'd juist
goat bak fae a ceilidh wi the deevil
an hou come ye'd seen viv lumsden's belly button
a bletherin, blusterin, drunken blellum, sae ye ur
whit a state tae git intae
voamit stens
doon
the bak o yir jaikit
werrin sumbiddie else's schune
how cuild ye be werrin sumbiddie else's schune
an of coorse
yir knoab wis hingin oot
the tap ay yir breeks
nae schemm, huv ye
an sei if ye'v byn oot wi yon hoor
kirton jean again
sae help me
ah'll chap it aff
an ye hud tae be seik
aa owre
ma bran new, deep layered
haun-med bi crippilt weans in kilbarchan
tender pyle carpit
duidn't ye
whit a state

ye wur that pischt
that yir ain voamit
goat aff the flair
an ran ben tae the cludgie
an spewed its ring
ah dinna ken

fowre in the moarnan
ye cam in heir
duidnae waant yir tea, duid ye
(ah'v hud chips)
slavin away since six this moarnan
a ten myle hyke throu the snaa fur fyrewidd
fechtin aff wolfs an bears an lions
(ah'v hud chips)
slavin away
sooth o the boarder spanish meatballs
orange ginger
an tatties
(ah'v hud chips)
romanoff a la lila, wattir chestnuts
an custart
ah hud tae sen the bairns oot
tae bolivia fur the fukkin chestnuts
an ye cam in hier
but ah'v had chips
an a wee dona kebab

an juist whit
in the nemm o the wee manduid ye dae tae the horse
ma best brawest cuddie, puir meg
that wis the tocher aff ma ain faithir
ye'v went an broke it
ye'r an eejit shanter
a fukkin eejit
ah dinna ken whit ye wur playin at
bit ye better fynn that tail
pronto

Who'er this tale o' truth shall read,
Ilk man and mother's son take heed,
Whene'er tae drink you are inclin'd
Or cutty sarks run in your mind,
Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear -
Remember, remember, remember whit happent tae ma fukkin horse.

http://www.luath.co.uk/acatalog/Kate_o_Shanters_Tale.html
http://www.scottishbooktrust.com/contacts/matthew-fitt