I went inside. There were squirrels and dromedaries.
I saw robed figures I assumed were human.
The shorter dromedary bid me welcome.
Grey squirrels tail-swept dust from a leather chair.
I sat. That let the theatre begin.
The witnesses were called. They did not answer.
The prosecuting dromedary belched.
‘It’s the Irish grass,’ she said. ‘Peat gives me gas.’
She dropped the charges. They bounced and exploded.
What had been floor consumed all but the chair.
With the squirrels and me on board, its jets sufficed
to eject us out through what had been the door.