Foaxes

 
Photo by Polly Atkin

Photo by Polly Atkin

                                      here
thair its thair
             aht foax again
                             rummagin throo ma bins  
                             bold as ye like
               boxin day  
                                       dain ma boax in

its fureezin  
                 ahm only in ma slippers  
             sa ah canny go oot n hunt it
                        no in this weaer
             snaws awfa deep  

             aht foax hus goat ma wheelie bin tipped rite oor  
                        n its firin intae ma auld boax eh special kay
   ahm hauf hopin an auld crismas  
                                                        cracker goes aff in its face

             ahm aboot tae shout
                                                hawl you move
             but then ah see a wee cub behin it
                        scamperin oot fae eh hedge
wan two three
                         three cubs
scurryin across ma gairden
            mad wee ginger snouts
                          n bushy tails too big fur thair boadies
            nosin throo leftover pigs n blankits

            awk ah feel bad noo
ah widny hurt they wee cubs fur thi world
                                                                     neither ah wid

            its pure cute seein um
                          a wee faimily  
            munchin away oan herb n garlic stuffin

            ah cin heer eh wains screamin
                          n sum disny fulm playin
            n ah cin smell turkey gettin reheated
                          n ahm hinkin aboot how much lecky is burnin
            while ah munch toast n luk oot eh back windae
                          in ma new crismas jammies wae her pink goonie oan
                                                      since ah didny get wan

            n ahm watchin eh wee foaxes
                          thair wee sharp mooths full eh fruit cake
            in aboot ma rubbish  
                          in thi snaw
                                       in ma back gairden
                                                   huvin thair ain crismas dinner

                                       enjoy bois
                                       merry crismas


Sophie McNaughton is a 21-year-old English Studies student at the University of Strathclyde. She writes horror and sci-fi, as well as experimental and Scots fiction. She says: 'I like Trainspotting (the book and film, not the hobby), 80s glam metal, typewriters, and Frankenstein’s monster. I run a blog and wrote a series of Scottish short stories called Scran.'

(Sophie was one of our assistant editors for Issue #2, and you can read her short story 'Sonder' and prose poem 'Thunderstorms and Midge Swarms' in Issue Two: here.)