In Competition No. 2910 you were invited to submit a poem by a pet who is cheesed off with its owner.
The contempt in Basil Ransome-Davies’s closing couplet, written from the perspective of a bolshie moggy, was echoed throughout the entry by a hacked-off parade of bullied, misunderstood and condescended-to pets:
He wants affection, he can kiss a duck.
It’s what my mother told me: bipeds suck.
I especially liked Sylvia Fairley’s homicidal preying mantis and Bill Greenwell’s scheming goldfish. Equally impressive were Hugh King, John Priestland, George Tetley, John-Paul Marney and Dave East, who were unlucky to miss out on a place in the winning line-up.
Those entries printed below earn their authors £25 apiece. This week’s top dog is Martin Parker. He gets £30.
I’m a goldfish who’s dejected
that my habitat’s infected
and is neither fit to swim in nor to drink.
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