This... is some very strange poetry. A wee collection of short animal poems, and I thought it would be nice and friendly, but the first poem is about a rooster and at the end of the poem the rooster has its head cut off. The duck poem ends with the duck being roasted and "Quack! Quack!". The ox ends up in a slaughterhouse, and the ant gets stepped on. You get the picture. I was almost afraid to read the giraffe poem, but all the giraffe does is wax philosophical about stars - that one actually was nice. As was the elephant poem, until I turned the page and read the follow-up.

I don't know if this is meant to be black humour or simply the morbid obsession with mortality of a man who has no sense of humour whatsoever, but it gets three stars for sheer entertainment value, if entertainment is comprised of a continual jaw-dropping expression of total fucking bemusement at this parade of absolute bizarrity. Mr. Eldridge, I think you must have been drunk. Well, good for you I suppose. Now go take that poor fox out of the trap before it dies there, and no, you do not want to watch.