Trophy hunting scumbags

none of them on the the breadline
But as hunters go they be
Underfinanced and niggardly
And just so miserly
They want to go to Africa
Game hunters thats their thing
And looking through the safari books
The prices kind of bring

Them out of the LION and the Elephant
Those great big dangerous souls
And into the realms of wild pigs
And giraffes who have specific goals
They pay their money and gripe a lot
And giraffes appear to be
Big enough and such good value
And are found just walking free

One such trophy wandering feeding
A mother one could see
Moving slowly across the plains
And from tree to tree
Taking on the emerging leaves
And buds each living treat
Such a sight to set before the queen
And yea bush meat!

Hughly prized by safari’s
AN opportunity
Whilst the hunter takes their selfies
to just sit there an be
Wallowing in their incompetence
At least a number of shots
Its talentless and unendowed
And now lots and lots

Of women coming over
Inept and unqualified
But what a great big target
That will not be denied
A terrible lurching gander
Her baby at her feet
Tangled in the after birth
Enough to unseat
The puffiness of the hunter
The mendacity of might
slaughtering a pregnant mother
Spectacular in the light

The arena was the open plain
Needs must as they say
The agent at the airport
to meet and greet and pay
Then about an hour of stalking
And point their guns and aim
A handsome crumpled body broken
Thats their claim to fame.

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