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Dis Week’s Paepir
In Hannah Nicholson’s poem Dis Waek’s Paepir, someone caught up in a media frenzy, their face and story splashed across the front page of newspapers and with folk talking about them behind their back remembers such stories don’t last and today’s papers will soon line the rabbit’s hutch or be used to dry weet shuin.
Dis Week’s Paepir
by Hannah Nicholson
Dis week’s paepir
Glared at you fae its staand,
Da story richt apö da foremist page
Screamin oot at you
In een o yun Bold Serif types,
Fir da editors still thocht
Dey wirna a glorified tabloid.
Even if you didna buy it,
You couldna really miss it
Whan you guid fir your messages.
Athin a day or sae,
Aabody kent aboot it.
You could see dem lookin
As you guid oot an aboot,
Peerin at you wi a glint,
Whisperin tae een anidder
Ahint dir haands, den comin
Wi da fakest o smeegs
An ower hearty ‘noo dens’
Whan dey realised you were clocked dem.
You remained hoopful
At hit wid aa blow ower,
An minded tae yoursel dat
Afore ower lang, dis week’s paepir
Wid mak wye fir nixt week’s paepir,
An whan time at dis week’s paepir
Turns intae last week’s paepir,
You kin use it as a linin
Fir da rabbit’s hutch,
Or even tae dry aff your weet shön
An firyit da front page.