Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ricky Wilson pushed the button
that turned his chair around.
He was surprised to see,
standing on the stage before him,
in a tight, bright yellow dress.
He thought it unlikely
that this could be the source
of the beautiful rendition
of Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
that he’d heard moments earlier,
but the stage was otherwise empty,
so it seemed this must be the case.
They’d never had a chimpanzee before.
One or two that might have been
mistaken for one, perhaps,
but never an actual chimpanzee.
Ricky, for once, was lost for words.
None of his fellow judges
had pressed their buttons.
He was on his own
with a chimp
in his team.
He could hear Sir Tom Jones