The Last Call
The final call of the last male of a species ,
Sounds a bit like a broken record,
Or maybe it sounds like choking blood,
Red, breathing and hollow.
It isn’t poetic
It’s just red
When we look at a wheezing forest we try to call it living,
We like to call the sick things full of color nowadays,
But they are all just factories
or houses
or broken down skeletons
The final call of the last male of a species sounds like
a lack of forgiveness to our bodies that dwell in the soil.
It forgets about how many iPhones we swallowed down our throats.
We choke on the wads of money that we spend on living Instagram empty lives.
Yet we forget how to breath through our souls.
The final call of the last male of a species sounds like the world crumble like weak concrete blocks
We like to stack them into towers to look like we have reached for the stars but we haven’t.
We have forgotten how to build structures that aren’t for the distraction of the broken bodies that sleep below.
The world is changing.
There is no more water in the flee in front of my house.
The last Sudanese rhino died 2 weeks ago.
We are losing more trees by the minute what has happened to the children?
We are choking on out lungs.
Someone asked me two weeks ago where the green had gone.
One day I’ll have to tell them that it was there but we burned all of it down.
And we will have a moment of silence,
For all the beauty that we have lost.
We have lost our trees, and the fynbos that used to bloom outside my house
We have lost the rhinos
And the tropical blooms of endless color
We lost or dignity
And the beauty of growing within or hearts
For what?
For some factories?
For some stone cold towers of corporal enterprise?
Maybe we sacrificed it for nests made of flammable money.
We only Know we have done once that burns too.
The final call of the last male of the species sounds like,
Like this,
This moment right here,
The destruction on the news,
The silence in the darkness.
The final call of the last male of the species is caused by us.
We have swallowed harmony
And coughed extinction numbers.
It won’t be long till everything we have will burn too.
- Here is my reading of the poem :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsMXUh7OCPo&t=7s
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