Stuff yourselves you rakish apes, carousing,
smashed on greenhouse gases, with your gross
physiques ensconced on barstools turned from trees
that we’d depended on for shade and browsing.
You looked on us as merchandise. A horn.
Mindless hulks. You gunned us down, despising
I rhinos for existing whilst espousing
reverence for the fabled unicorn.
Mince us up! We’d make your quarter-pounders
richer and more sweet than those with cows in.
We’ll exit with our dignity while you flounder,
slopping in a carbon midden pit,
mired with your machines. You’re pickled, sousing,
drowning in a sump of your own ****.