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Larnin` Tae Speak Propa

by  Cliff Hanger

Posted: Monday, January 29, 2018
Word Count: 214
Summary: Moving from flash. I just wrote it for a bit of fun but I maybe see a serious theme in that I can't shove my granny off the bus. The rigmarole of life has brought me back. Perhaps that's what I'm getting at too.




Larnin Tae Speak Propa
 
She sang
‘ye cannae shove yer granny aff a bus’
then said I should be careful because
she could read my mind.
 
Mither
went tae gie me a skelpit lug when
 me marras from school said ‘howay, hinny
we’re gannin on the hoy’ and I replied ‘canny.’
 
At uni
I was shocked when someone called
me cock but they were all barmy in that place.
That’s just mancs for you.
 
Brooklyn
couldn’t grasp the way I pronounced lasagne.
Or egg. I practised saying caw-fee the way
they do in the movies.
 
London colleagues
spoke many languages at home but
perfect English at work, so I learned
to talk proper for a while.
 
In Cumbria
everything went to bits and pieces,
but folk were always asking
 ‘are ye awlreet, eh’ – which was a comfort.
 
Now and again
I hear myself saying ‘boo-wk’ instead of book.
And there’s always a momentary confusion if someone suggests
I meet them in the lobby (a kind of stew in the Potteries).
 
Here in Bonnie Gallowa’
they can’t quite place my origins
but all agree I certainly
come from somewhere down south.
 
Nae doot
Granny would find that completely
hilarious with her living her whole life
in the next village and me being pure Gallovidian.