Pastoral

I’ve decided to visit the country today,

Expecting some beautiful sights on the way.

But the stench of manure spreads far and wide,

From a barn with a million chickens inside.

I walk past the farm, and the farmer says, ‘Son!

Get off of my land!’, and he’s loading his gun.

Another one’s tending to crops in the field,

Crushing the rabbits with his tractor wheels.

I cut across a cow field, and just my luck,

I step in a turd and my welly gets stuck.

I keep on walking down the lane,

With only one boot, and it’s starting to rain.

I pass a fat woman in jodhpurs and chaps

Riding a horse that’s about to collapse.

She shoots me a glare and says “Filthy tramps,

They should put the lot of you into camps.”

“And I bet you’re one of those immigrants too.

Oh, why won’t the government deal with you?

No matter,” she said, “I’ve got foxes to kill.”

Then she spat in my face and rode over the hill.

After that unprovoked attack,

I decided to leave – and never went back.

The countryside is a sorry disgrace.

If I’m ever in charge, I’ll destroy the place.