Poetry – The Horn

The Horn

I’ve got the horn

Ripped straight

From the head;

Does wonders in bed.

An explosion of lead


And dead.

Hacked clean

Into something


Poor eyesight;

It never saw us

The very last


Opher 4.7.2015

The Horn

We are rapidly wiping out the wild things, the forests, and the wilderness as we increase in number and extend our range. Soon the whole world will be a huge concrete and plastic jungle.

We may keep the DNA safe so that in saner times it might be reconstituted into living organisms.

One day, when we’ve become wiser and more civilised, there might be a programme to reinstate nature. I’m not sure I would completely approve. Designed wilderness is a poor substitute but perhaps it will be better than nothing.

If we survive that long, that is.

The rhino is doomed because of superstition and money. You may as well use nail filings as rhino horn. They are exactly the same keratin. There is no medicinal value. It does not give you the horn. Yet the customers will pay. The rhinos will pay and the hunters get paid. That is how decisions in this world get made.

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