Doing the dog poo slalom, careening
Past piles dumped upon our history
Above tramlines from a more perfect past
Now Tarmacked into bus lanes.
And below them, war rubble jumbled,
Concrete covered chaos
(Two walls remain of blackened bits)
What's left was missed, Ha!
Deeper yet, brick lanes, carriage ways
Carrying kings to Ye Old Spotted Dog
When horses pooed here, too.
Next stratum down, smooth cobblestones
(Last lane undone, stone by stone, Ta Ta!)
Hand blessed as each remaining curbstone set.
Way down, the dirt track of cows and carts
Once held back by a Forest Gate
Edged by English Commons.
Further below, the dirt of dusty Romans
Of Legions marching straight
Over Queen Boadicea's battle ground
When river tribes plied pathways inland.
Laid down, day by day.
All above the first to walk here, dinosaurs!
Not bothered by whose poo is where.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem