Matthew Flinders had a cat with which he went to sea
His boat was named Investigator, Trim his feline-e
They sailed around Australie in Eighteen two and three
So here I am considering how we mark that bi-cen-ten-ery.
I worked beside Encounter Bay a decade, maybe more
And had input to a talkfest, just a paltry group of four
Councillors that were very keen to caste a bronze of Trim
And erect it to commemorate where Nich met Matt and him.
I raised my hand and questioned why we’d want to celebrate
A cat, a blight, an escapee that has become the heavyweight
In unassisted, unimagined wildlife devastation
A mouser that has become the blight across our nation.
All were keen to caste a bronze except just lonely me
So as a compromise I suggest we bury Trim at Sea
He could rest exactly, and forever he could be
Where those seamen shared a mug, a pannikin of tea.
My unliked suggestion was verily, just ignored
First caste and then the bronze, very hot was duly poured
Trim’s likeness now stands wretchedly on Victor’s sandy shore
An ill considered memory, of stupidity, ever more.