Wear whatever you like
And nobody bats an eyelid
Jim-jams and slippers
Go up the street
And no-one will even notice
The way that you walk
As you spin and you squawk
As you slide down the Stars
For a pint and a talk
And a snifter of baccy
Or something more waccy
And trudge through the arch
On the Fore Street hill march
And everyone's mad
And stark staring crazy
But most are just flopsy
Or Bunty and Daisy
The tatty head hair-do
That looks like a floor mop
The baggy clown trousers
Tied up with big braces
The small vegan spider
That stalks in green sandals
The tree hugging weird beard
With tiny black doggie
The mum with her hair tied
Her scruff bags stand screaming
The lonely girl student
With washed out bandana
Carries a bundle
She calls it her art
And all these now make up
Our town on the Dart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem