Poems of compassion dedicated to the non-human animals who share this planet
with us and the people who fight for them.
He shot him down.
The plump, Minnesota tooth-puller,
Who made his $55,000 blood money,
Rooting around in rotten mouths.
His wealthy, well-heeled patients
Complicit in grave murder now.
He shot him down.
With cruel cross-bow and arrow,
For the ultimate in agonizing death.
The inadequate man’s little fantasy,
Finally salved and sated,
By obliterating Nature’s king.
He shot him down.
The unnaturally white smile broadening,
To reveal the hateful heart of a sadist.
His raging jealousy and inferiority satisfied,
By the groaning of a might and greatness
He can never match - in this life, or the next.
He shot him down.
Luring his noble superior out
With the promise of food;
Breaking bonds of ancient trust,
Mocking inter-species codes of fellowship,
For the pre-planned, cowardly end.
He shot him down.
Zimbabwe’s national treasure.
Tracked his wounded better over forty, long hours,
Hiding behind the bushes, in a reinforced truck.
Waiting for that unsuspecting moment.
To pull his gun out, blast the final bullet.
He shot him down.
His stubby member no doubt briefly aroused;
Excited by its fleeting potency,
Knowing ‘manliness’ only in the violent death of another.
He saws, he hacks, he beheads his black-maned ‘trophy,’
To add to the growing collection of dead heads at home.
He shot him down.
He who would not have dared look him in the eye.
Who would not have known how
To return that slow blink of trusting love,
Which Cecil routinely shared
With his admiring onlookers.
He shot him down.
The 5-minute ‘hero’
Of “Trophy Hunt America.”
This robber of lion, rhino, buffalo, warthog soul.
His Crimes Against Creation noted down in a record book
That will never forget - and will hold him to account.
Go on to: IF (Or, Back to the Garden)
Return to: Poetry by Heidi Stephenson
Return to: Animal Rights Poetry