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 ****.