Dodo Poem by James Fitzpatrick

Savour the last of the species, vigorously jotting
Painting, scribbling on hidden rocks,
In caves amid the jaggedness.
Fattened are the other blackened hearts,
with scales no Herbert could bare,
first generation, last generation.
Critical Levels shown through lessened pearls,
As Poor Raphus walks on ghostly by.

And How their hearty fire does glow, casting searchlights
over watered rocks, as we alone
Sit gaping at our history basted
churning on a spit.
Claws up, claws down, hoo hooting to the moon
we pioneer our way to dawn,
Just one hundred more to our end,
We'll crawl no more our chests about.
Laughing, tearing to the bone, those rampant breathes spout out then in, beating to dawn's chill,
it's left the Island leaner now,
All's gone bar the flag, and our best friend named Alice.