Another poem in our series on 'The Poet Cranky', submitted by Frank O'Shea: Since I suggested this topic, here is another one to keep things going.
(Poem #1521) The Bloody Orkneys
This bloody town's a bloody cuss No bloody trains, no bloody bus, And no one cares for bloody us In bloody Orkney. The bloody roads are bloody bad, The bloody folks are bloody mad, They'd make the brightest bloody sad, In bloody Orkney. All bloody clouds, and bloody rains, No bloody kerbs, no bloody drains, The Council's got no bloody brains, In bloody Orkney. Everything's so bloody dear, A bloody bob, for bloody beer, And is it good? - no bloody fear, In bloody Orkney. The bloody 'flicks' are bloody old, The bloody seats are bloody cold, You can't get in for bloody gold In bloody Orkney. The bloody dances make you smile, The bloody band is bloody vile, It only cramps your bloody style, In bloody Orkney. No bloody sport, no bloody games, No bloody fun, the bloody dames Won't even give their bloody names In bloody Orkney. Best bloody place is bloody bed, With bloody ice on bloody head, You might as well be bloody dead, In bloody Orkney
I have no idea who the author is, but would love to learn. Anyone who goes to the Orkneys or to any other Scottish islands and complains about the beer deserves everything they get. People who visit Scottish islands should stick to single malt and if they complain about that, they are about ready to be put down. Before I die, I would love to spend a week in Islay - you don't allow advertisements, I suppose, so I had better not say any more. Frank.