Stanley vs. The Hay Bales

Stanley was confused
he totally REFUSED
to go through the field
where the hay
was displayed
all baled up in wheels

quite why he was scared I don’t know
hay bales aren’t a big deal you’d suppose
but maybe if you’re a lolloping lurcher
you’d worry they’d suddenly roll over and hurt ya

but I have to admit
when I stop and think about it
dozens of gigantic wheels of hay
neatly lined up in a field in that way
IS pretty odd
like the act of some crazy, geometric god
bored with the general mess of creation
suddenly wanting a tighter formation

Stanley CERTAINLY didn’t trust ‘em
he gave them the side-eye when we tiptoed past ‘em
maybe he was afraid
of what else he’d see displayed
cows made of cubes
rabbits tumbling by in tubes
he probably likes his nature more natural
which is why we jogged past on a hasty diagonal

That’s Stanley

Tarter than a russet or a bramley
More uplifting than a snifter of brandy
Sneakier than the sub in that thriller by Tom Clancy
That’s Stanley

More heroics than a bunch of comics by Stan Lee
Flirtier & dirtier than a cream horn or a fondant fancy
Sassier than a Netflix series featuring Alison Janney
That’s Stanley

Softer than a cashmere pashmina of paisley
Louder and marginally more annoying than the hit musical Annie
Holier and a whole lot hairier than Mahatma Gandhi
That’s Stanley

how Stanley howls

how Stanley howls
and growls
with a vexing mix of vocal vowels
and frowns, and scowls
till your patience is broken and your sympathy aroused
and you ask him what all the fuss is for
and you go over there and muss his fur
and he rolls on his back like a fuss connoisseur
all four paws in the air
and you despair
and with one last ruffle you leave him there
and he sneezes and stares
and watches you sit back down in your chair
waits a couple of minutes and then
the whole damned performance starts over again

Stanley v.2

I made a new Stanley from the recycling
basically just experimenting
with everything and anything

his head was a cracked plastic funnel
a baked bean can for a muzzle
his ears a pair of raggedy flannels

for his eyes I used two diet coke tops
his legs were four old floor mops
his claws quartered rubber door stops

his body was a novelty cushion
wires to work every facial expression
a bark from a bootleg jazz session

it turned out better than I anticipated
I hoped he might’ve celebrated
but Stanley growled at the creature I’d created

Stanley’s paws

Stanley’s paws
are about four storeys
you need a ladder to get by
or maybe a trampoline
but only if you’re expert at that kinda thing

Stanley’s paws
break all natural laws
and a whole lot hairier
than your average Himalayan yeti
take a look at the state of our settee

Stanley’s paws
are quite a draw
say they’re horrific and unspeakable
but they come in great numbers
to take selfies while he slumbers

Stanley’s paws
get spontaneous applause
he waves them accidentally or whatever
I mean large crowds gather to declare
they’ve seen smaller claws on a grizzly bear

Stanley’s paws
are opening doors
a TV producer phoned for a sample
of something resembling a movie script
and now season 1 is available on Netflix

so many dinosaurs to choose from

Stanley’s favourite dinosaur is Parasaurolophus
but there’s no way we’re letting THAT up on the sofas
I looked ‘em up – they’re 16 feet tall
we’d struggle to get it in through the hall
I think he should look at the Microraptor
it’s easier to keep by quite a factor
the size of a bird, its food bill’s a snap
and it can come and go through the kitchen cat flap