Where we used to pick
blackberries is home to
airborne discards from
electric windows of cars
in passing. Streams we
paddled in, are clogged
with babies diapers and
Polish coal bags bulging
with decaying abortions
from when before it was
legalised, in Ireland. Our
drinking water is so over
treated with chlorine that
one would need a pair of
eye goggles to drink it.
The streets are littered in
with popular American
brand names, we are in
the process of being once
again colonised, soon it
will be chlorinated chicken
which Mr, President never
pardons, but our pigs will
be Spanish, the blood for
Clonakilty Black Puddings
from Holland and God, if
we can trust in him, will
keep us in a good supply
of Potatoes from Cyprus.