No-one's Ark

the early bird, bearing the brunt of too much leisure time, is sleeping in later and later; the hyena doesn't laugh anymore, not since the fuel crisis; tree frogs are looking for something a little more centrally located; elephants' trunks are too heavy for passenger flights; the grey squirrel has forgotten what he is fighting for; the camel, sick of commuting, has eloped with some young dromedary; krill would kill for anything other than phytoplankton; the honey bee guide is charging different rates for tourists; even the hermit crab sublets... cuckoos offload their eggs onto unchecked foster parents; Nessie is ghostwriting his fourth autobiography; the golden eagle is accused of being antiquated and unnecessarily flamboyant; Russian dwarf hamsters are lowering their suspensions; bats complain of light pollution and push passive agressive notes under the doors of noisy neighbours; the hawk is hawking feather dusters by the side of the road...

we are clamping tired horses
we keep molluscs in cages

only the uninteresting barnacle, shell getting thicker, is free

to slowly slide down the faces of rocks,
nucleus humming folksongs,

"I suck therefore I am..."

and only the slug still remembers how to dance patterns into a moonlit night.







June 2009.