Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
In the thicka the Perth Road's pretence millin aboot the fustian o the ald "Hunter S." basement (cuz there's nae Scottish writers ti name a pub efter) cap scrapin the ceilin Bohemian Monk Machine gettin set on the tiny stage fir a bit o funk-jazz-sumin-or-other a hud ti step ootside wee bit o fresh smoke a few lads sauntered past in thir designer gear an zirconian ears "let's go in here - nah, am no into country music" it's ca'd Maker now but ah it maks me is restless
0
May 19, 2024
May 19, 2024 at 12:57 PM UTC
Hunting
In the thicka the Perth Road's pretence millin aboot the fustian o the ald "Hunter S." basement (cuz there's nae Scottish writers ti name a pub efter) cap scrapin the ceilin Bohemian Monk Machine gettin set on the tiny stage fir a bit o funk-jazz-sumin-or-other a hud ti step ootside wee bit o fresh smoke a few lads sauntered past in thir designer gear an zirconian ears "let's go in here - nah, am no into country music" it's ca'd Maker now but ah it maks me is restless
true story
rizmack
Written by
May 19, 2024
May 19, 2024 at 12:57 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem