The Great North/South Divide


I’m a rowdy Boltonian,

Descending from the North.

I’m weighing up my enemies.

As my battalion drives forth.


It’s not a barmcake: it’s a bap.

A ginnel is called an alley.

If you wanna give someone a ride on your bike.

For God’s sake, don’t offer ‘a backy‘.


If I spot someone clearly distressed.

I won’t let my mouth run amok.

Apparently, it is insulting to ask.

Are you alright, cock?


So I landed down in ‘the South’.

And was very shocked to see.

All these enemies walking around.

Acting just like me.


They smiled and waved and came for a chat.

When I expected a mighty collision.

We call this a kingdom united.

Then what’s with all the division?

©CMA 2020

The Poetician