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leah richmond Jul 2013
Rescuing animals every day
Saving them from abuse
Picking them up in any bad way
Comes the RSPCA
Allways the RSPCA  every time IT HAPPENDS
(fictional tale of real beverages)


he sat at table number 9
she chose 10
their eyes never met
but only through the wall wide gilded mirror across the room
he thought her name was Faith
she guessed his was Luke
he took a sip from his mocha massimo every 41 secs
she guessed he was 41, slowly stirring her white-no-sugar earl grey
she wondered if the ******* page three of his 'Sun' was a blond, a brunette or a red head
he wondered what principle she's at in 'Why men love *******'
they ate lemon and poppy seed muffins with small bites
his lips were firm
hers unable to hold on to the cheery blush lipstick any longer
he thought she was single and had a RSPCA rescued cat called Biscuit
she guessed he was married with three children and a wife called Porscha
she must be driving a Ka
he must be driving a Jag
she waters her plants every Tuesday, goes to pilates classes on Thursday and on Sundays she watches Terms of Endearment in her pink jumper with her friend Chris and a box of tissues
he walks his dog at 7, plays rugby for Long Lane on Saturdays and on Fridays goes for a pint of Guiness with his friend, Joe
he snores/ she sings in the shower
he's a catholic/ she never quite liked Jesus
he hates his wife/ she loves her cookies
they laugh at the old woman shouting at a bus driver in the street and hate gyms, cyclists in Lycra and anything to do with politics
they secretly read Keats, eat onion bagels and tomato soup and listen to Gershwin

*

they never spoke
they never will
because if they would
Faith would never be able to watch Star Wars again and Luke -
Luke would lose his faith in
love at first sight
All day I hear nothing
From flat above;
Not a footstep,
Not a thud.
All’s silent and then,
With dread,
I wonder if they’re still alive
And hope that they’re not dead!
And pray that’s not the reason why
I never hear them move
Across the floor above
In thumpy-thuddy shoes.
To take my mind off
Thoughts of death and blood
I imagine that
The flat upstairs
Is home
To one gianormous slug.
Who never makes a sound,
Well,
Because he has no feet
And doesn’t need to go outside
Go to the shops or walk down the street
Because he’s filled his room with lots of houseplants
So he can just stay in to eat.
But safe to say
I’m reassured
At night when I try to sleep
I hear the very lively sound of
Noisy stomping feet
Then sigh happily that they’re alive
And smile, glad that I can still use salt.
Without the fear of dissolving my landlord’s tenants
And it being all my fault.

Night after night
I would hear heavy feet prance
In the room above
There was so much clomping and
Loud stamping and clobbering
That I’m pretty convinced
They’re teaching elephants
how to riverdance.

Because of cause elephants cannot naturally jump
So they teach them to dance
in an effort to (metaphorically) Thump
mother nature on the nose
And say ‘look at these elephants bouncing
Like pros.
You’ve seen Tigger spring about Winnie the Pooh,
But check out what these here elephants can do’

So that is my explanation to the noises upstairs
And I understand why it’s only at night because
To teach elephants in the daytime
Well, that would cause a whole lot of
Unnecessary affairs
And a lot of fuss
From the press
Who would publicise the classes to the world
And then elephants from everywhere
Would travel in their droves
With their hearts set on
Being able to one day skip and hop
And not have to sit down at the discos
Everytime they heard music for the jive or the bop
And the RSPCA would back it cause
They’d say it’s only fair
That elephants have the same opportunity to
Learn how to jump in the air.
And then there’d be a problem see because
There would be no space for all the elephants
To fit in a small, town house room
And expect to have space to river dance;
Well, what a stew!
So that’s why they hold the lessons at night,
In secret,
with a class of perhaps two,
Maybe three elephants at most.
And then they’re silent in the daytime because
Dancing wears you out
So they sleep until the night falls
And then they dance and prance about;
Very, very noisily
While those sleeping
And those trying to sleep below
Gradually doze off to the sounds of
The future elephant Michael Flatley
Upstairs practicing for their first dancing show.

Well, that’s one explanation
My alternative one is
That the flat above is home
To a nocturnal giant
Who likes to tap dance.
But that doesn’t seem quite as likely.
Written in October 2013.
Dr Peter Lim Mar 2021
Dear Beth, thanks.

This reminds me of a real event some 7 years ago. Our home in an eastern suburb of Melbourne is surrounded by a few low trees. I was taking a walk and lo a tiny birdie dropped from a tree on a patch of grass below!  It was struggling and I noted that its mother was helpless looking from up the tree.  I held it in my right palm--it was shivering but its body was warm and its eyes were still twinkling.  I rushed home as I needed my wife to drive me to RSPCA as I couldn't drive (had not passed the stringent Aussie driving test).

The staff there were very helpful and promised the birdie would be well looked after.  One of them said: We hope to find a keeper.

A thought struck me and I asked: Should we give it a name as I will be phoning RSPCA to make sure it it's OK?

     It was April.   After trying a few names, we agreed on APRIL.

I rang up a month later and was told: April found a good home.
Commuter Poet Sep 2018
Clouds like feathers
Float in the deep blue morning sky

The sun, bathes the spaces
Between houses.

Brown leaves, dry and curled
Gather at my front door

As the winds of autumn
Shake the enduring trees

I walk each day
The same pathway

Looking for signals
Searching for signs

A still, rounded body catches my eye
And I cross the road

A hedgehog lies
Motionless
In the middle of Tickfield avenue.

Is this your final resting place?

I move it with my foot to the curb

It feels soft to the touch
Is it still alive?

I take a picture
It’s mouth is open
I can see its teeth

Is it over?
Is this how a life ends?

I take my train
Report the case to the RSPCA

And wonder
And wonder

It's Friday
And tomorrow

I will lay beside my wife
And we will share the weekend

Together
21st Sept 2018
Mark Bell Dec 2024
Thank you awfully
Do you mind
Kick this dog
Do be unkind.
Thank you awfully
Do you mind
Kick the cat
Do be unkind.
Would you like
To kick my horse
Do you mind
Not of course.
Would you like
To eat my pet
There be a yes
Just not quite yet.
Are you a member
Of the RSPCA
So am I just
Joined today.
There seems to
Be a vacant spot
MR Packham
Just ran off.
Do you think
He was right
Daft person
Should have stayed
And
put things
right.

— The End —