...
the ducks fed me
regurgitated breadcrumbs
& green duckweed
scooped with their beaks
from the bottom of the derwent
which flowed to bleaklow moor
north from the trent
as a toddler mauled a staffie
their parents used to say
it's nurture not nature
in the park again
yet change rearranged
so old biddies gathered
high on aspartame
vaping & littering
if their grandkids found out
they'd no doubt - be ashamed
& blame the internet
leaves fell upwards
from the ground to the trees
not one cottager
stuffed inside the cubicles
of the gents bog
which flushed like a dream
cyclists remembered
what their bells were for
the ice cream van
sold hot mister whippies
the moon shined bright - come noon
& all the tossers jogging
watched where they were going
& never hogged the path
...
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