Guiltless Fur

The Fashionable Lady wore four cuddly
little nutria – mutant cute blue rodents – ‘round
her neck. They were her snuggly-wuggly pets.
Genetically designed to poo and pee
in shades of powder blue and scents

of potpourri, prettily they’d squat beneath
a small acanthus tree she’d potted in a cobalt
Chinese ewer in her powder blue boudoir.
Chaque matin et soir she’d put her babies on
and marvel at their warm and silky hides,

and how they seemed to love their little rides
out to the bistros and boutiques. Her friends
bestowed wee tweaks upon their little cheeks,
cooing at their cunning little squeaks.
The Fashionable Lady kept them on until

they died. Then she’d flay off every fluffy hide
and sew it onto a chapeau as wide and deep
as their eternal sleep. She chopped their little
bodies up and fried them in hot pepper oil –
not a lot, just a dash. Makes a tasty hash.





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