In which she writes bad earthquake poetry

1) doesn't capture what I wanted to capture, but that's probably in the nature of what I wanted to capture, so oh well.

I met God at the busstop today.
He was on a smoko between his bus rounds
and I was waiting for another bus
so we fell to chatting.
He told me the Gayhurst Road bridge is down to foot traffic only
and we're still getting earthquakes.
"We live in trying times," he said.
He said, "We've all got to stick together."
Then my bus came so we said goodbye.
"Be safe," he said,
which is the new Cantabrian for,
"Have a nice day,"
and I did.

2) This one would actually be a children's picture book. I envisage a gold medallion thing on the front cover saying, "From the city that brought you 'Quaky Cat'!" (which incidentally is an awesome book and I might have cried a little when it was read to us the kids at church. Much more morally uplifting than the following.)

There's a fly in the web in the chink in the plaster of my neighbour's house.

There's a bird on the tarp on the hole in the roof of my neighbour's house.

There's a rat in the pool at the pipe to the sewers from my neighbour's house.

There's a cat on the sill with the shards of the window of my neighbour's house.

There's a dog in the flowerbed by the boarded-up chimney of my neighbour's house.

There's a sheep on the wall that fell onto the fence by my neighbour's house.

There's a cow on the hill between bedroom and lounge in my neighbour's house.

There's a bulldozer on the rubble of my neighbour's house.

If I could easily get hold of the appropriate animals, I'd be tempted to grab a camera and illustrate this myself. I don't have a bulldozer to command either, but I'm presuming one will be along in the fullness of time.