‘I dunno,’
said the squirrel,
‘these days
I just don’t get the same blast.
I mean, time was,
it was a passion
no other word for it.
Find a good nut,
dig a little hole,
slip the nut in,
perfect fit,
cover it up –
I’d go weak at the tail.
But now, well,
a nut,
it’s just a nut.
Food,
that’s all.
Fuel.’
‘I know what you mean,’
said the dog.
‘Take lamp posts.
I used to live for lamp posts.
Those green ones
bulgy at the bottom,
they were the best.
Leg up
a good widdle
and I was totally fulfilled.
A new dog.
Nowadays
pissed on one
pissed on them all.
What you said,
passion,
it’s all gone.’
‘Fact is,’
said the cat’
‘we’ve turned into a lot
of miserable old buggers.
Believe it or not
the other day,
they bought this new sofa,
right?
And I tell you
when it came to the point
I couldn’t even be bothered
to get my bloody claws out.
The old spark
just not there any more.
Nothing left.
Well, see you around.’
‘Yeah, see you around.’