Here’s England’s green and pleasant land

decorated by human hand:

buckled wheels enhance dull hedges,

beer cans and redundant fridges

brighten boring lanes where bags

and pages torn from ‘girlie mags.’

flap to scare the scavenging crows

from fish shop papered rambling rose.

Abandoned Hoover, nettle bound,

forlornly tilts towards the mound

where willow-herb, in profusion,

blazes on in wild confusion,

oblivious to broken glass,

old cola bottles and a mass

of cigarette ends, sandwich crust

and leaflets from the ‘Wildlife Trust’.

Hard to tell from festooned verges

just where town and country merges.

Where’s England’s dream? Unpleasant land

 

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