Agnes revises a sonnet by Dave McClure.
See 'f ye go tae Kelvingrove Museum 'n try'n imagine whit thae guys wiz thinkin aa thae years ago, ye almost see them, thur sweaty oxters, ragged claes, an stinkin. Gaunny tak a pew an hae a blether wi thae auld codgers? Watch them drappin aff knackered-like efter work in fulthy weather an snorin like auld grumphies. Whit a laugh. OK. Noo dig yer holes an build yer bridges ower the sheuch. Rip doon whit's in yer wey an dinna fash yersel aboot the midges that bite yer erse aa through the warkin day. An see 'f ye find a stash o hidden treasure, jist wheel it hame tae Aggie, at yer leisure.