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London Streets ( after Lines and Squares)

Whenever I walk down a London street,

I take great care where I put my feet.

And I watch for the gobs

And the doggies' big jobs

That lie there in piles, some sloppy, some neat,

Waiting for people to squidge with their feet.

And I tiptoe around

With my eyes on the ground

And wonder what horror I'm next going to meet.

And the harder I look, I give you my word,

The more I seem drawn to the tiniest turd.

And the dogs see me coming and say, 'Here's a sap.

Let's nip round the corner and have a good crap.

He's wearing those shoes that have crinkly soles,

With lots of small ridges and dozens of holes.

And if we distract him by having a piddle,

Nine times out of ten he'll tread slap in the middle.'

There's nothing more pleases a dog's simple wit

Than to hear the familiar cry of 'Oh, shit!'

Christopher Matthew