The Dons: A magic performance

Did some good magic today,
telling my second man
how the Dons shameful performance
could be turned around.

'I'll offer my services' I said. Bardic.
Work on that team spirit,                     
help them lift it
oot the shit o relegation magic.

Smiled, arrived at the drop!
8 floors and 3 sofas later
we're completely knackered;
but so's Aberdeen.

'Sorry tae tell ye lad' says the mannie,
'but Hearts've scored again.
And again. Sorry.'
Dave consoles himself wi' saving twelve-odd quid,

wipes sweat fae his heed
tae his shirt,
Living Design just dripping wi' it.
'4-1!.. And I thocht we'd turned a corner.'

Turned to silent men then,
and then into Culter -
hit essential roadworks wi' a dunt,
sent flatpacks fleein a o'er the back o' the van.

'Oh Nohhhgh...' Dave's groanin,
'...I'd forgot aboot that.'
But oor blue bruises and bones hadnae!
The very last drop. Thank Stan!

'I should have been there for them...'
'Me shoutin in the stand... who knows...'
Dave trails off here wi' his heed in his hands
and I indicate, keep the wheels of distribution turning.

We're stuck in a jam now; I ken it, delivering;
'Och, just put them in the garage. Perfect.'.
Dave's shakin his heed, distracted.
But I'm acting oot, gettin' in tae it.

Being there. Doing it.
Again-again!
Closer, more real that time, and then...
we're turnin', at last!

Past the field:
bloke's standin' waiting for us!
wi' this big trolley salvaged
fae some auld tractor's undercarriage.

'Och', he says, rollin' up his sleeves,
'We'll just pit them here in the garage.'


Cor, Nov 19th 1999