Grouse

the gentleman

he calls himself that

rich

a fat belly, perhaps

lots of red meat

lots of claret

and sweet trifles and tarts

and braces  elite

ideology thats what he’s good at

on the moorland he farts

and he shoots

burning the peat

he wants to compete

wild birds shots fired

up in the air

what has transpired

beautiful birds filled

full of lead

let the  dogs bring them

thats what they said

carbon stores burning

who cares a fcuk

Red grouse a pheasant

a beautiful duck

shoot out its guts

watch it crash to the floor

burn off the grasslands

its just like a war

the burnings illegal

we know it to be

gentleman shooters

yes we can see

blitzing like crazy

lead shot in the sky

lets have a ding dong

who cares how many die

scorched and black lands

embers and ash

trees looking crippled

just so much trash

its all illegal

a ruddy shame

gentleman shooters

you are all the same