RE-FORMED EUROPEAN BISON

Bison

The bison

– an endangered brute –

has suddenly

turned extra cute:

it’s rolling in the sandy dunes

on lazy Sunday afternoons.

Instead of

fiercely locking horns,

it’s chomping through untidy lawns.

It seems to think

we need to see

its New Age

sen-si-tiv-ity.

 

(Over the last few years, a small herd of European bisons has been reared in the sand-dunes of the Netherlands, providing hope that the endangered species might be able to survive in an environment other than its shrinking forest habitat.)

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A GRAVE WHALE TAIL

Whale Tail

He should have lived a proper life

skimming through the ocean,

leaping over crested waves

constantly in motion.

Instead…

he copped a plastic-bagging,

rubbished through and through,

loaded down with dump-truck debris,

weighted down with goo..

sadly,

stuffed with soggy rottings,

riddled-through with dross,

intestinally packed and padded,

puffed, like candy-floss.

Ah, but…

it wasn’t that the plastic-baggers

didn’t care a jot,

it’s just…

the nations of the planet

have gone and lost the plot.

 

[3rd June…a whale was reported to have died in Thailand as a result of having swallowed 80 plastic bin-bags which were found lodged inside its stomach.]

NEW AGE ANCIENT SOLAR-POWERED WATER PURIFIER

Aristotle

Wow!

it looks so modern

with its neat and tidy lines

so

compact and yet audacious

like a futuristic shrine

yet it’s

artfully efficacious

in these self-indulgent times

as if

an age of perspicacity

had set its paradigms

really

oddly anachronistic

like a throwback to  old times

truly

Aristotle’s science

made

monumentally sublime.

 

ROILING SPOILS

Wreckage

How romantic it can seem

when ships are sailing on the sea…

when they’re shimmering on the waves,

gliding forwards endlessly…

pumping out their oily bilge,

casting off their waste debris,

wriggling aft their deck-held cargo,

plopping drums indelicately…

tumbling loose container-produce,

pooping, really, in the brine,

jettisoning a world of woes

onto this pristine beach of mine.

PLASTIC-EATING ENZYME

Vase of Flowers

They’ve been in that vase for twenty years.

I’ve dusted them each day.

They’ve always looked almost the same

until last Saturday,

when…

a “test-tube enzyme” got to them

and chewed away the stems,

splattering on the doilies,

mouldering the hems.

It…

spread along the tablecloth

towards my plastic tray

gnawing at the edge

until it ate the thing away,

including all the plastic cups,

the cutlery and plates,

so I dumped them in the plastic bin

outside my plastic gates.

Now…

the neighbourhood’s in panic-mode.

It’s spread through all their yards.

It’s right inside their pockets

eating through their credit cards!

THE LAST STRAW

Straw

The swirly-whirly swizzle straw’s

a favourite of mine.

It adds a twistie zinger

to my lemonade and lime.

It gives my Pimm’s pop status

at a party, when I dine.

But it messes up the ocean

when it flushes down the line.

So “ta-ta!” plastic swizzle straw :

you’ve brightened dismal days.

And now, I must denounce you

as a toxic, wasteful craze.

MUTANT CATERPILLAR THRILLER

Caterpillar

We’re about to take the world by storm

 – my mutant genes and I.

But it won’t be with great buzz and flutter

 – mostly, we’ll slip by

in pods and shells and packing cases

 – firstly as small eggs,

hatching into caterpillars

 – running on short legs,

crawling  ’round in fruit and vegies,

chewing ’round the pits

 – a most unpopular cropper-stopper,

chomping crops to bits.

 

DRY AS

Dry Creek

If all of the rivers run dry,

we should make a sly pact, and just lie

– tell the next generation

that we, as a nation,

thought pollution would end when pigs fly.

It was out of our hands, we might say.

Nothing good could be done anyway.

We should let matters slide

on a notional tide

and just leave stuff to wither away.

It would be for the best, in the end.

We could huddle in groups and pretend

that we knew all the answers.

But, like so many chancers,

we drivelled our chances away.