In the scorched savannah, elephants idly graze,
Acacias offer umbrellas, very welcome shade;
see crack-creviced skin shrug off pestering flies,
Africa-shaped ears flap, wary those ancient eyes.
Quietly click-closed, the doors of distant jeeps,
poachers pace patiently: slowly, slyly creep;
watch: innocent animals meet murderous men:
ancient beasts get butcher-bludgeoned, yet again.
Merciless machetes hack, blade-edges worn,
silently blood witnesses, the majestic tusks torn;
lying limp, large mammal carcass too late pleads;
egotistical sex, stupid superstition, erotic greed.
High priced your libido, so expensive an erection:
heedless male hedonists strive for sexual perfection;
mainly Asians make unfortuneate animals pay;
if elephants have angels, pungently they pray.
Loved-by-some, large creatures roam and roar,
engineered not evolved, welll-worth fighting for;
man and beast created, but not really so equal:
if this species erased, there will be no sequel…
image: ‘You Can Buy My Heart and My Soul‘ by Andres Botha andriesbotha.net