Disco Badgers, by Neil Windsor

Disco Badgers 

What's that rustling in the trees? It's the Disco Badgers strutting their funky stuff
From their lofty perch high amongst the foliage they just can't get enough
They have a fondness for the 70s disco groove
You can tell that by the way they sway and move
They hang their transistor radio from a lower branch, tuned to retro golden disco hits
They party through the night shaking their badger bits

In the early morning light they retire to their underground homes
Clearing up their empty beer cans, burger boxes, and southern fried chicken bones
Bio diversity responsibilities matter to these funky types
As much as their chest hangin' medallions and perma tanned facial stripes.


They hold each others front paws for support as they stand on their hind legs and groove
In hip swingin' disco fashion they rhythmically move

You'll notice I've used move and groove twice now but you can never have enough
They have to concentrate and not let go otherwise they'll tumble to the ground luckily these badgers are tough
With plaintive 'eek thump eek thump eek thump' echoing in the dark, as gravity takes it's toll
They land with a wild yelled 'Geronimo!' and perfectly executed parachute roll
They traipse back homewards using the zebra crossing, road safety is their primary thought
'Now you see them, now you don't' as on the cctv they're caught

Carefully passing the convenience store the bar code faced badgers creep
Desperate not to set off the till scanners bip bip bip beep
They keep to the shadows, dropping their litter in the relevant receptacle
They recycle responsibly of course but remain global warming sceptical
They're eager to do their bit, it's what climate conscious creatures do
They're just happy the badger cull's been vetoed and banished to the back of the animal killing queue

Neil Windsor is a Writer of children’s short stories, Artist and Poet from Leeds who produces and performs all his work with an absolute passion and a slightly slanted off – kilter view of life.
He also plays extremely bad left handed blues guitar.#neilwindsorart

 

No Shit Sherlock by Dru Marland

There are so many different kinds of poo
but study of them comes with some restraint;
it’s not a thing nice people do.

The neatly excavated badger’s loo,
the strangely fragrant, fish-scaled otter’s spraint;
there are so many different sorts of poo.

Boned pellets hiccuped by the owl -tuwhoo!
may look like droppings, but they ain’t
-they’re still not things nice people do;

poked with a stick, these things tell true
a tale of what the beasts last ate-
and there’s so many different kinds of poo

Pellinore’s horn of fewmets, too,
would tell where Questing Beast had went
-he’d show them to nice folk like you.

It is a habit I’d commend, and do,
For time spent studying nature’s time well spent;
there are so many different kinds of poo
even (shhh!) the kind nice people do.

Dru Marland lives among voles on a canal, and draws pictures of them and other creatures, and fixes engines now and then.