The man who
Lives under the
Flower beds
In st Andrew's park

Is a lonely
Bitter
Little man

Enduring his
Entire life
Without knowing of the beauty
That lay a worm's width
Above his eyebrows

The chickens aren't happy
They aren't laying

The farmer, concerned
Takes to praying

To a poultry god
He's always doubted

Hard times call
For hard and fast rules
To be flouted.

The origins of our hero
Neil Heaven
Is a tale that
following in the footsteps of a great many tales
Has been whispered and shouted
Twisted and doubted
Far too many times to mean much of anything anymore

This much I can confidently state as fact
Neil Heaven is a cat
Neil Heaven is the cat.

Neil Heaven was once so overwhelmingly chill
He slippped into such a
Dazed state complete with
Contented drooling smile
That concerned
Botanical garden staff felt compelled
To contact a feline psychotherapist
Who was able to assure everyone that
Neil Heaven
Was far from unwell
He was in fact
Wellness itself

Wellness catsonified.


Neil Heaven was once
Headhunted by the dogs
But politely declined
Reportedly stating
'All creatures are equal in the eyes of
Neil Heaven
I must respectfully decline but
Am ever so flattered by your
Interest'

Chatting to my pal
Neil Heaven
Recently
It came out he'd never
Seen the internet and
Was unsure exactly what it was for

So I explained that it was access to pretty much the
Collective knowledge of the
human race
Neil Heaven smiled gracefully
Turning to leave purrs
'But I already have that'

Neil Heaven
Takes an annual tour
of the vineyards at Châteauneuf-du-Pape
To share the fruits
Of his gifts in the field of oenology.

I recently decided to try my hand at being one of those peskytarians
I wasn't completely sure what had finally prompted it
Until, enjoying a lie in one
Monday morning
I noticed how clear
The mooing of the cows was
Drifting through my open window
I realised they must have been asking me to give it a rest on the whole eating them thing
So if any cows happen to be reading this then rest assured
Moossage recieved loud and clear
There'll be no beef past these lips
You have my word

The brexit boxer
Bang got slapped about
Ploof banked his check
This is not a distress signal
What are you being paid for?
I sailed through as all the
Security checks bounced

Even keel
Sitting in the dark eating lard

The 52nd state thanks you for your service
Missing vowels bow before the Constant changing of the guard