This was a number of my Anthropocene Apocalypse poems.
The dolphins and porpoises have bigger brains than us. They are certainly intelligent. But they are gentle creatures with no need to build shelters or machines, let alone weapons.
I stood on the hills above Wineglass Bay in Tasmania with my wife Liz and my friends Dylan and Julia. It is one of the most beautiful sights with its emerald green water and golden sands. I thought it was called Wineglass Bay solely because of its shape as a wine glass. It wasn’t. In the older days they would herd thousands of dolphins into the shallow water. The hunters would stand in the water gaffing them with huge serrated hooks and sawing through their necks to sever the spinal cord with great serrated knives. They would continue in an orgy of murder until all the trapped terrorised animals were slaughtered and the water they stood in was turned from emerald green to crimson. From the hills the water of the bay was turned red as if it was a half-full glass of Beaujolai.
Can you imagine that much blood?
Can you imagine the pain? To be speared with a huge gaff while some brute slowly cuts through your body with a great knife?
You’d think that was bad enough. But those were uncivilised days. People were brutalised. Except it is still going on. In the Faroe Islands they are still doing this.
They are as bad as the sadists of ISIS!
One Gaff and a Slow Slice
And a slow serrated slice,
Sawing and hacking to the cord.
Gentle and trusting
Into the shallows
Where the blood
The shock resounds.
With joy rebounds.
No concept of the pain.
Sad meat upon the shore
Crimson seeps between
But the fever
Butchered in the sunset
Of gory grime
Of the great tragedies
Of our time.