Once they had finished digging up the bone –
First uncovering it and then tugging it from the ground
Like trying to uproot a magnificent turnip –
They washed it in a bowl of hot water and washing-up liquid.

For lunch the archaeologists ate Maxibons,
And then basked naked in the noonday sun
Just as the dinosaurs of the Cretaceous period had
In a time before Maxibons were invented.

That evening the archaeologists dressed in their finery,
Looked at all the found bones laid out on the ground
And ate more Maxibons whilst chatting listlessly
About the possible shapes of extinct creatures.

“One hundred and sixty million years,” said one archaeologist,
“And they didn’t even get around to inventing Maxibons.”
The second archaeologist laughed flirtatiously whilst
The first performed an impression of a puzzled dinosaur.

Under the moon they stripped again and swam
In their dug-up swimming pool, jokers finding old bones
And attaching them to their bodies with duct tape,
Pretending to be dinosaurs of the pre-Maxibon era.

In the cinemas of the future, evolved human beings
Ate ice-creams evolved from the Maxibon
And watched this archaeological japery with interest,
Knowing that these too were just myths of the past

Put together in the future.


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