The shitehawk

The shitehawk, Ireland’s bird of prey,
Is common in our skies today,
Hov’ring over town and road
To disposition its great load
On people who are unaware
It’s up above them in the air.

It comes in many shapes and sizes
Handing out its brown surprises.
Famous ornithologists
Spend many years compiling lists
Of all the many hybrid species
Currently dispensing faeces.

There’s overchargers, red-light jumpers,
Bank head-shakers and gazumpers,
Petty thieves and hooded bowsies,
Scumbags who break into houses,
Men who can’t see what the fuss is
Sitting put on crowded buses.

Authority that’s mean and petty,
Uncle George and Great Aunt Betty,
Journalists who ruin lives,
Cheating husbands, lazy wives,
Men who’ll sack you with a laugh
To take on cheaper, foreign staff.

Folk who fling black sacks in ditches,
Curtain twitchers, nosey bitches,
Parkers in disabled spaces,
Intolerants of other races,
Girls that snipe and boys who bully,
Spin-doctors who make wrong acts woolly.

The common wisdom is that this
Great bird that spreads its shite and piss
O’er everybody, old and young
(Indiscriminately flung)
Is much more common in the sky
Than ever was in years gone by.

That isn’t quite the case however.
This great bird of prey has ever
Fouled our country top to toe,
Browning those green fields below.
It’s just, before, it seemed that we
Were crapped upon less openly.