Fred’s Pigeons by Catherine Edmunds

My neighbour’s yard is full of pigeon shit
excreted by the thirty birds he keeps
in two small crees. I wouldn’t mind a bit
if rather than ‘purrup’ they sang with cheeps
or chirrups, flutey tunes, not burbly purrs
which get right on my tits (excuse my French).
But cripes! I hate ’em! Still, the thought occurs
that peacocks would be worse. They call ‘kawench’
or some such sound that sets my teeth on edge
and makes me want to wring their scrawny necks.
Right. Here’s the deal. If Fred’s birds have to fledge,
okay, but if they crap upon my kecks
or other stuff that I’ve hung out to dry
the feathered faecal droppers have to die.

Catherine Edmunds was educated at Dartington College of Arts, and Goldsmith’s College, London. Her published works include a poetry collection, four novels and a Holocaust memoir. Catherine has twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and her writing has appeared in the Frogmore Papers, The Binnacle, Butchers’ Dog, and other literary journals.

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the consequences of kissing the wrong gadgie by Catherine Edmunds

She knew she had to wait until the dark
or risk her substance fizzling into mist
for now the days of rising with the lark
were gone. She sighed, and wished she hadn’t kissed
the gadgie in the costume. How was she
to know the fangs were real? She touched her neck.
A little sore. She thought she’d try to see
the damage in the mirror. What the heck?
Reflection gone? She shrugged, and went to eat
some garlic bread, but shuddered at the smell.
She must remember. No more bread. No meat.
No cups of tea, just vats of blood. Oh hell!
A coffin? Cape? She had to make a list,
so dipped a quill with care into her wrist.

(Previously published in Anomalous Appetites)

Catherine Edmunds was educated at Dartington College of Arts, and Goldsmith’s College, London. Her published works include a poetry collection, four novels and a Holocaust memoir. Catherine has twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and her writing has appeared in the Frogmore Papers, The Binnacle, Butchers’ Dog, and other literary journals.

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Shell Shocked by Catherine Edmunds

The incubator’s light turned green. We cheered!
The wait was over, eggs would hatch tonight,
but as we watched it flickered fast. We feared
the hatchlings wouldn’t last, would die of fright.
“Not so!” Professor Zog cried, full of glee,
“Their life force cannot fail, I promise you.”
And he was right. Now all of us could see
a tiny movement; peck, peck, peck, and through
the mottled shell a beak appeared. A beak?
But dragons don’t have beaks. We were perplexed.
This looked more like a chicken. Zog looked bleak.
“Good grief!” he wailed. “I say! Whatever next!”
And thus it was, despite a heartfelt plea,
Professor Zog now works for KFC.

(Previously published in Anomalous Appetites)

Catherine Edmunds was educated at Dartington College of Arts, and Goldsmith’s College, London. Her published works include a poetry collection, four novels and a Holocaust memoir. Catherine has twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and her writing has appeared in the Frogmore Papers, The Binnacle, Butchers’ Dog, and other literary journals.

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