The day the dinosaurs died could have been like any other Mother:
June afternoon, 16.2 degrees Celsius, hot and humid,
The kind of day that made you wish you could plunge into pools
Starfish spread on the surface of the water and float your way to heaven.
Except on this day the heavens had split at the seams, spilling destruction relentlessly
barrage after barrage of rain water; eclipsing the summer sun and smothering your Marigold’s.
With nothing to do and nowhere to go God grew restless.
First he lined up his toy soldiers, drew lines in the cobalt blue of his suede carpet,
As they were about to fire he thought better of war.
But the dinosaurs were ripe for extinction,
He had grown bored of these backward plastic models,
The comet of commercialsation had convinced Godfrey
he needed the new ROBO-ULTRABOT 3000Tyrannosaurus Rex, Trachodon,
I couldn’t stop him, fiver year old fingers dashed mini dinosaurs that were once mighty in his affections into the fireplace, He waited till night,
Its only when burning plastic crawled down my throat and threatened to choke me that I knew things weren’t alright.