Tae a selfie

(a “broad Scots” poem inspired by the work of Robert Burns).
(Oan takin’ a hunner fur Facebook an’ postin’ when pished).

Oh my Goad, am feelin’ great;
Aff tae the dance flair tae gyrate.
Oor kitchen’s lookin’ like a sea
Of glam an’ glitter.
Am clingin’ tae ma bevvy ticht
In case a slitter.

Sippin’ oan ma rum an’ juice;
A must admit, am feelin’ loose,
And dinnae wahnt tae hink aboot
The morra’s heid.
A pray an’ hope ah’ll be jist fine
Efter a feed.

Am lookin’ smashin; whit a stunner!
A drain ma gless doon in a wunner
An’ noo a really feel the need
Tae stert the show;
Grabbin’ ma wee phone fur snaps;
We’re gid tae go.

A summon aw ma lassies through
An’ switch the camera tae front view;
An staun’ an’ gee ma ginger loacks
A soart and fix.
We huddle roon’ an’ wait tae hear
The fast wee clicks.

A shuffle roon’ an’ change ma stance;
We dae some shoats an’ huv a dance,
A feel ma face is braw enough
Fur its ane shoot.
A stagger up and git a pal;
Am pished, nae doot.

Then in the moarn we congregate
An’ wae deep breaths we face oor fate,
An’ try tae fin’ oot whit the Hell
We hink wint oan.
A drag ma erse oot of ma pit
An’ check ma phone.

But then wan photie gee’s me fright;
There must jist no huv bin gid light.
“Git that oaf; ah look like shite!”
Ah flap an’ plead.
But a ken there’s jist nae point;
It’s oan “News Feed”.

There’s mare oanline, a look sae silly;
Am staunin’ wae a blow-up wullie,
Ma cross-eyed heid is gazin’
Intae time an’ space.
Aw shite, ah cannae quite believe
This fine disgrace.

A scrabble tae git them awa’
But hawf ma freens huv seen them aw,
An’ noo a wish a hudnae been
Sae bloody steamin’.
Here come the comments fae ma maw;
Ma cheeks are beamin’.