Not to Mention Brexit

How a fully grown python got into the boot

of the Peugeot we will never know.

It certainly wasn’t there when I loaded the cases

on leaving the hotel in Sidmouth.

One short stop for selfies at Stonehenge

plus a comfort break at a service station on the M3

and four hours later, unloading the car in the driveway,

it is wrapping itself around Rosemary’s leg.

I helped her hobble into the house, where,

uncoiled, it chased the cat down the hall

through the cat flap and out into the garden.

As we speak, Rosemary lies in a heap on the patio.

I try ringing the emergency services, the RSPCA,

the Wildlife Trust and David Attenborough, but in vain.

They have their hands full with snow leopards,

lions, sharks, crocodiles and gorillas.

Not to mention Brexit.

What is the world coming to? I ask.