The mockingbird
can also be heard
making a godawful racket all night long,
which makes me think that Atticus Finch was wrong.

Hmm. We seem to have near-infinite resources at our disposal.

There is no defeat'll
persuade a dung beetle
that dung's not for rolling.
I however would rather go bowling.

A cheetah
can beat a
tortoise in a race so badly that in fact
the tortoise would be shellacked.

To build a beast
like a wildebeest
use high quality manes and horns, and if you do
your wildebeest will be as good as gnu.

A rabbit
can temporarily inhabit
a hole his fellow rabbits only let him borrow,
so a hare today may well be gone tomorrow.

Has the Rapture begun? (Someone call 111)
The Pope is in the clouds marrying everyone.
Left us all behaving badly down below --
Wouldn’t want it any other way, though.
x

When, to my tufted titmouse
I say, “Sit, mouse!”
she’ll alight on my finger
but, unlike my dog Max, won’t linger.


My Wunderpus photogenicus
is wholly hypoallergenicus,
so I can pet the spotted little varmint
and it won’t do me any harmint.


My spiny lumpsucker,
wearing his best bib and tucker,
grooving at the piscine party, is having a blast
but, since he is out of water, knows deep down the fun won’t last.


My pleasing fungus beetle
will always wheedle
me into giving her a snack of spongy fungi
but she always uses a napkin, so is never grungy.


My pink fairy armadillo,
whose belly is soft as a billow
but whose back is hard as a boulder
is as touchy as a toddler, so I never scold her.


Because my raspberry crazy ants
get under my pants,
driving me as crazy as a bug with itches and twitches,
I have come to trudge about without my socks and britches.


My satanic leaf-tailed gecko,
while statue-like, is an exquisite piece of art deco
but, while scurrying as fast as a flash of lightning,
looks genuinely frightening.


My tasseled wobbegong
will tag along
with me when I go for a swim in the drink
but will slink away if I sink. The fink!


My hellbender
is a ginormous slippery salamander which will blend her
body into the surroundings so I can’t spot her.
For such genius, you have to applaud her.


My chicken turtle
named Myrtle
no doubt tastes like chicken,
but were I forced to eat her, I’d be grief-stricken.


My star-nosed mole,
which can dig a huge hole,
is blessed with twenty-two pink fleshy appendages ringing her schnoz.
“Why?” you ask. Just because!


My blobfish
is a snob fish.
When I talk to her, she turns away.
In fact, she won’t even leave the bottom of the bay.


Were you to lick my ice cream cone worm,
it would affirm
that she is not as tasty as you may have surmised.
Are you surprised?

Our neighbour's dog
Is always in a state of mental fog.
In fact, it's so dense
That they named it 'Pence'.

There's a Saint Bernard
in my backyard,
but if that little flask around his neck has whiskey or gin
I'll let him in.

My hungry poodle
for food'll
do anything for me,
but once he's fed he tends to ignore me.