The Jabberjock

Since it was Burns’ Night on Saturday we thought we would bring you a poem from a more contemporary bard

The Jabberjock

‘Twas dreich, and came the slithy tove

Tae greet and brag throughoot the wabe

Al’ snooty were the Cybernats

And the hame wrath ootgrabe.

 

“Beware the Jabberjock, ma son!

The gob which shites, the lies that catch!

Beware the Harpy bird – aye, her

The Shrieking Krankiesnatch!”

 

He tak’ his Union sword in hond

Lang time the fetid foe he sought –

So rested he by rowan tree

And stood awhile i’ thought.

 

And as in huffish mood he stood

The Jabberjock, wi’ een insane

Cam’ waddlin’ through the tulgey wood

And blethered wi’ nae shame!

 

Ain, Twa! Ain, twa! the sword o’ truth

With vorpal blade went snither-snack.

He left it deed, and wi’ the hied

He went galumphing back.

 

“And hast thou slain the Jabberjock?

Come tae ma airms, ma true Scots boy!

Oh frabjous morn! Wee Eck is gorn!”

He chortled in his joy.

 

‘Twas brilliant, and the slimy toe-

Rag no more gambolled in the glade

And all the mimsy Cybernauts

Their mome wraths had outstayed………

by Max Nix

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