The following is a poem by an imagined character called Rubber Burns who is a sado-masochist and Scottish Nationalist. He has no resemblance to the author AT ALL!

My name is Rubber Burns, Poet, Sadomasochist and Scottish Nationalist.
Although freedom is confusing when I’m bound both legs and wrist.
I discovered these quirks as a teenager, robust and in fine fettle.
When I felt a stirring doon below after falling in some nettles.

It is the Scottish bondage dilemma, for self-government we do hanker
So let’s give a right good thrashing to these effete and Tory wankers.

Because I prefer a battered sausage shared with the clan McLeod.
So bust my Willie with a bicycle pump. It’s what gets me aroused.

Years of bourgeois rip off rules has left the north with no pot to piss in
Even though being beat for mercies sake is the Scots default position.

When I shout Freedom it means stop this, for that’s my safety word.
Having leaders we never voted for to me seems quite absurd.
And I hold nothing personally against the good folks that live down south.
But how can I tell you I love you when you’re pissing in my mouth










Author: Mind Palaver

John and Elle are two voices, among many, advocating and living with acute mental health conditions.


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