No way to treat royalty

[Brownlie]

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It used to move sugar and cotton,
hoofed tensioned tow ropes
now decorate cast iron moorings,
tarmac creeps black through its veins.

A shopping trolley for the lock keeper,
army ant perch strangled the canal,
I know the colour of drowning water,
held with a tear in my anglers hand.

Nature’s graveyard is quiet today,
children amble ahead, splat bricks
in silted beds, conversations dead
free to be but no place or purpose.

Majestic pike strikes the surface,
his gills can't fill in stagnant pools,
a broken bulldogs jaw trawls for food.
I saw panic in its eyes and it saw me.

The young matadors sense its pain
trying to maim something so precious,
so barely alive evolved to survive,
little flags did it, no trumpet sounded.

No celebration on council house streets,
silver threads floated bloated another
sport of kings they’ve missed precious
little shits, it’s no fucking way to live.


Original
It used to move sugar and cotton,
hoofed tensioned tow ropes
now decorate cast iron moorings,
a road has severed its vein.
The keys have rusted in the locks,
over stocked with permitted perch,
the colour of drowning water is brown,
planners linear walks where nothing talks.

Nature’s graveyard is quiet today,
children play ahead, splat bricks
in silted beds, said 'look over there'
throw stones, point and stare.
Majestic pike strikes the surface,
his gills cannot fill in stagnant pools,
a broken bulldogs jaw, trawls for food.
I didn’t like its eye until it saw me.

The boys thougt this would be a game
to try and maim something so precious,
so barely alive, yet evolved to survive.
One big brick did the trick, its great
silver body floated, bloated another
sport of kings they’ve missed, little
shits, it’s no fucking way to fish.

The matador was intriguing and the sentiments about livestock were also interesting. It looks like you need to add an apostrophe to bulldogs