My town
its a thick, insulated place,
Its got pastry on its borders
dripping with pride
The heathered moors
and dark pits
give it a thick accent
It rolls round the palate
like bloody chewing gum
locals shake flakes and crumbs
When hardship bites
As they stumble out of last order doorways
Perishing cold, corn beef legs
slurry home for love
My towns warmth lies in its hearts
Its humour its strength
Hope in its bones
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem