Features

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Features

a poem by Kevin Higgins

While gutless others shivered

alone in wardrobes of their own making,

debating whether to kill

by strangling, or have sexual intercourse with,

themselves;

 

you strode into our national crisis

stage left stylish

as a string quartet about to fiddle out

on viola, cello, Stradivarius

something by the late Benjamin Britten;

a set of implausibly perfect teeth attached

to what sounded like a brain.

 

Your intelligence so vast

you had to get the builders in

to extend the dome of your skull

to accommodate a Masters

degree from Harvard.

 

Not content to be the usual

slight disappointment, you reveal

yourself to be the thinking wing

of the Foster and Allen Party; politically flexible

as a cross-community Belfast brothel;

slick as rubbery bacon; aesthetically pleasing

as a Chicken Snack Box thrice reheated

before nine o’clock in the morning

or a third hand pair of trousers grown

pungent with badly digested cabbage;

 

but destined tonight to be wildly applauded

in darkest Arklow by those who’ll have

the shirts torn from their backs

when next the market crashes.

 

Features

Sometimes I think my thoughts

are being controlled remotely

by Sir Oswald Mosley’s late wife,

who lived many happy years

in the French countryside.

 

Everywhere I look

I see Jews I mean Muslems.

In the future armed police will be allowed

ask men of the Hebrew, sorry, Islamist variety

to remove their skull caps

and the women their hair,

to make sure they’re hiding nothing

under them.

 

Any court which attempts to prevent this

will be overruled by President Moi.

 

Those we know are plotting against us,

but against whom we, as of yet,

have no evidence, will be held

at processing plants

on the outskirts of Marseille

or on the rockier side of Elba,

until they’re no longer able

to do anything to anyone.

 

Any extremists caught poisoning wells

will be dropped from helicopters

hovering over the less scenic parts

of the Algerian desert.

 

All practising Rabbis, sorry, Imams

will be made take a state exam

to ensure they’re no longer

encouraging children in their care

to take over the world and make us

their sex slaves.

 

To the enemas of liberty and La Republique

I say this: as President

I will construct a machine

to monitor the formation of your thoughts,

so we’ll know what you’re cooking up for us

before you’ve even gone to market to get

those screaming Tunisian chillies.

 

KEVIN HIGGINS

Animal Welfare, Features, International

by Jamison Maeda

Numbering as many as 5 million in the early 20th century, the population of the majestic African elephant has been reduced to only a few hundred thousand due to the demand for ivory by the world’s nouveau riche. It is estimated that 100 elephants are brutally killed each day by poachers.

But last week, China announced a ban on its ivory trade by the end of 2017. This is a cause for excitement for animal activists around the globe.

“It’s a game-changer, and could be the pivotal turning point that brings elephants back from the brink of extinction,” says Elly Pepper, of the Natural Resources Defense Council in New York. “…ending the legal ivory trade in China, the world’s largest consumer of elephant ivory, is critical to saving the species.”

Conservation group WWF also welcomed China’s announcement as a signal of the end to the world’s primary legal ivory market,and a “major boost to international efforts to tackle the elephant poaching crisis…”
Read More

Features

after Enda Kenny

 

Donald J. Duck on his election

as forty fifth, and possibly final,

President of that great entity

traditionally known as the United

States which, admittedly,

by the time he’s finished with it,

will likely be called something else.

 

In the heat of battle President-elect

Duck has said things

which have left him with bridges to build

with certain people, such as Mexican

transsexuals, and women

who don’t want him,

or anyone politically

associated with him even thinking

about grabbing their

vaginas, or the vaginas of their

friends, mothers-in-law, or

as yet unborn children.

 

We think today in particular of

Secretary of State Clinton,

though only very briefly,

for eaten parsnips are quickly

digested, and we must move on.

Democracy (and, for that matter,

dictatorship) have their own outcomes.

This being the case, if President-elect

Duck wants to build a crazy golf course

in every front garden on this island,

I will work closely with compliant

urban district councils, sympathetic

journalists, and members of the judiciary

to have the necessary planning

fast-tracked.

 

And rest assured, every opportunity

that presents itself, either

I or one of my Ministers will be there

to shake his hand,

or any other part of his anatomy

President-elect, Donald J.

Duck, wants shaken.

 

KEVIN HIGGINS