Man hollowed out wooden leg to smuggle iguanas

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I would have got away with it
but for the noise –
claws scratching at the wood,
those genteel coughing sounds
iguanas make.

“One moment, sir”
I knew then I was done for.
“ If you could come this way..”

In my skivvies, standing on one leg,
I watched him spring the secret trapdoor –
out they tumbled – all my little darlings
skittering across the polished floor.
Tiny dinosaurs in Terminal Two.

It’s said that they escaped into the drains
and flourished there…

One day they will return, Godzilla like,
crunching Jumbo jets to junk
between their claws, reeking of jet juice
and rotting airline meals.

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Depressed penguins make recovery

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We’re fine now. Thanks for asking.
White chests and black tail coats,
we look like waiters in some posh hotel.
Three times a day we go through our routine –
the comedy walk-on in perfect sync –
then dive in one by one and swim
to the ice floe
made out of cement
which never melts or grows.

They throw us chunks of frozen herring –
always the same but quite nutritious –
and laugh to see our antics.
Sometimes they clap their flippers in delight.
It is nice to be appreciated.

They’re very needful of our welfare.
Even the herring
has a special tang to it these days.

Yet still, some nights
huddled with others on a concrete floor
I hear  great bergs crash together
see distant sky
shimmer
feel the ice
sharp under my claws.

No, honestly. We’re fine.