He shot him down

Local authorities report Zimbabwe’s lion Cecil, one of the most famous big cats in Africa, was killed by an American tourist on July 6th.

Zimbabwe’s lion Cecil, one of the most famous big cats in Africa was killed by an American tourist on July 6th according to local authorities. The 13-year-old animal was found beheaded and skinned outside the grounds of Hwange National Park. It’s believed the hunter paid a tour guide approximately 55 thousand dollars for the opportunity to do so. The lion had been previously outfitted with a GPS tag by researchers at Oxford University, which allowed investigators to trace his final movements. The lion was lured out of the park grounds, a tactic often employed by those seeking to hunt protected animals “legally.” Once outside Hwange’s boundaries, the lion was shot with a crossbow, trailed for about 40 hours, and killed with a firearm. The head of the Zimbabwe Conservation Task Force reports that in the time since the slaying, “The two people who accompanied the hunter have been arrested but we haven’t yet tracked down the hunter…” He told CNN that the animal’s head and skin have been confiscated and are being kept for evidence. The tour guide said to have taken the money was arrested and is scheduled to appear in court on August 6th.

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He Shot Him Down

.
He shot him down.
The plump, Minnesota tooth-puller,
Who made his $55,000 blood money,
Rooting around in rotten mouths.
His wealthy, well-heeled patients
Complicit in grave murder now.

He shot him down.
With cruel cross-bow and arrow,
For the ultimate in agonizing death.
The inadequate man’s little fantasy,
Finally salved and sated,
By obliterating Nature’s king.

He shot him down.
The unnaturally white smile broadening,
To reveal the hateful heart of a sadist.
His raging jealousy and inferiority satisfied,
By the groaning of a might and greatness
He can never match – in this life, or the next.

He shot him down.
Luring his noble superior out
With the promise of food;
Breaking bonds of ancient trust,
Mocking inter-species codes of fellowship,
For the pre-planned, cowardly end.

He shot him down.
Zimbabwe’s national treasure.
Tracked his wounded better over forty, long hours,
Hiding behind the bushes, in a reinforced truck.
Waiting for that unsuspecting moment.
To pull his gun out, blast the final bullet.

He shot him down.
His stubby member no doubt briefly aroused;
Excited by its fleeting potency,
Knowing ‘manliness’ only in the violent death of another.
He saws, he hacks, he beheads his black-maned ‘trophy,’
To add to the growing collection of dead heads at home.

He shot him down.
He who would not have dared look him in the eye.
Who would not have known how
To return that slow blink of trusting love,
Which Cecil routinely shared
With his admiring onlookers.

He shot him down.
The 5-minute ‘hero’
Of “Trophy Hunt America.”
This robber of lion, rhino, buffalo, warthog soul.
His Crimes Against Creation noted down in a record book
That will never forget – and will hold him to account.

 

Heidi Stephenson

 

 

 


By Heidi Stephenson

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One Response to He shot him down

  1. Kathryn Orr says:

    Absolutely so well said. Thank you so much.

    RIP Cecil.

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