Poem: The Derry Cat Lady

Waterside cat lady don't give a shit.  She says what she wants.

Derry Cat Lady

by A. Carter

Fuck sake, piss off! yees wains and brats,
I'd ruller hauve me fickle cats.
Though furry and a mingin’ lot,
they love me, tho I'm auld and fat.

Hairy Gerry and big orange Bill
to-geller lap me kitchen swill,
and peaceful like, they're gnawin' bones,
but here's you wee shites a-throwin' stones.

And if I get my hands on you,
I'll teach a hard learned thing or two,
wi’ the Waterside witch's curse
of Ulster's Red Hand on your arse.

The boy who hurts a living thing
pays dear to wear the Devil's ring,
and does his work with idle hands
on guns and in the marching bands.

So quick! before you sell your soul,
a cretin bored and on the dole,
show kindness tae a simple cat,
and give his small wee head a pat,

lest ye be forever 

a fuckin twat.