What’s the marrer wi you?

Nana asks,
she’s round for a cup of tea
with Dad, she looks at Frank

Ye look like a parsnip
all long and white.
If I was like that when I were a lass
I’d soon be put right.

Dad laughs: Aye

She says:
Come round this sunday
after Mass
we’ll gan doon the quayside
have a look round the market.

At the Quayside Market
Nana’s a ball of steel wool
the river is a dark border
the bridge is a watching eye
girls laugh, their high heels tap
the river stinks like Nana’s dishcloths boiling
the air of donuts and chips wafts around the stalls
Frankie throws a pop bottle into the oily water.
Hoy! the river isn’t a waste bin.
Nana growls and stomps off.
A foreign lad plays lonely music
on his accordion, Frank watches him
he’s young, on his own
beside the bridge.

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