This poem is from my soon-to-be-released poetry pamphlet, How To Be Scots-Italian (Cadzow Press, 2026). It was one of the first poems I ever had published and it gave me the idea for the theme for the pamphlet.
How To Be Scots-Italian
Get a head start by having a first name
that doesn’t really go with your second name.
Your parents were just trying to keep everyone happy.
Keep a bottle of Lacryma Christi for when
your Auntie Anna calls in unexpectedly.
Hide the jar of instant coffee in case
she comes into the kitchen and dust off
the old metal coffee pot that unscrews in the middle.
Put out that panettone you got at Christmas
then watch as she scoffs all the Tunnock’s Teacakes.
Learn to sidle down side streets or
melt into shop doorways when you see
old Mr D’Ambrosio coming because, despite
the fact he’s lived here for over 60 years,
you still can’t make out a word he‘s saying.
Be prepared to serve sausage rolls and salami di Milano
at Hogmanay parties and give equal play time
to Jimmy Shand and Dean Martin.
You’re just trying to keep everyone happy.
Listen politely to your Auntie Carmen from Coatbridge
when she phones at three in the morning to ask
if everything’s ok because she’s had a dream
about you and the number 62
which signifies death and pestilence.
Try unsuccessfully to get back to sleep.
Feel torn when Italy is playing Scotland at football
until the crowd starts to sing Flower of Scotland
and a wee tear runs down your cheek.
Try not to get bitter that you never knew
your Italian granddad because during the war
he was taken away by two Scottish policemen
in the middle of the night, herded onto a ship
and was lost at sea when it was torpedoed.
Churchill was just trying to keep everyone happy.
First published in Talking About Lobsters, New Writing Scotland 34, 2016