Dethroned

It has no effect on them, the zookeeper replied,
when asked about the rhino’s missing horn.
Better dehorned than dead.
Saw it off now before they come in the night
to murder and dethrone your crowning glory
to be ground into magical cure-all powder
or carved into obscene jeweled daggers
to adorn a prince’s empty existence.
Just remove the profit motive.
How easy it sounds, when we pretend
to know all possible effects,
what pain is to another.
Who knows the wild heart of a rhino?
Does he still see a rhino in the pool’s reflection?
Can you save the animal
without losing the soul?

Just one of the poems from my new collection Death at the Mall, just published by Kelsay Books (kelsaybooks.com) and available wherever books are sold.

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