I hate wasting poems. Here’s one which didn’t impress the judge at The Spectator. Must try harder!

The opening line was what was given. And it’s all based on kosher research, too. Apparently a rhinoceros can’t see a dicky-bird.

Whenever you see a rhinoceros

Whenever you see a rhinoceros

indoors or (more likely) al fresco,

you’ll see that it’s not the preposterous

plaything of men like Ionesco:

far from absurd, and herbivorous,

with two keratin horns – sometimes one –

it may charge, sounding very vociferous,

so take care. It weighs in at a ton.


Don’t hunt them. They’re perfectly peaceable,

and man is their solitary predator.

Does their skin look like armour, uncreasable?

Blame God, who is nature’s great editor.

Show respect, though they don’t give a toss for us,

for their hearing is famed in the tropics –

still, whenever you see a rhinoceros,

it won’t see you back. They’re myopics.


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