The Ship Of Fools

38 poets are sailing across Loch Katrine Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply 30,000 sheep were cleared from the hills around To keep Glaswegian plumbing ewe-pee free Their elders were not consulted in this matter Driven lamenting off their ancestral pastures The mutton clearances, a stain on Glasgow's character. This loch is 500 feet deep A water bull as large as a Clydeside bus Stays in its icy depths, waiting To hole the hulls of oily polluters In the city of Glasgow's public water supply Green Tagged Kate McLaren, the Gartmore Palmer. Black Mini Muddler. Professor Watson's Fancy, Black Zulu, the Middle dropper All, have got their hooks in The city of Glasgow's public water supply. Meanwhile, above all those jugfuls of pub-mixers, Throat coolers, juice diluting gallons, buzzards swoop over the trees red and roe deer feed on the slopes pied flycatcher, tree pipit, wood warbler, redstart soar and dive through the leaves Occasionally dropping feathers On the city of Glasgow's public water supply Not to mention 38 poets, raising an ode or two Like sails in the wind, as poets do, Steering by sleight and illusion, Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply. Uisge beathe with a smidgeon of Bardic tang