Starry, Starry Night [Hippo's ain't for Pansies]

Starry, Starry Night [Hippo's ain't for Pansies]

You may dream of gin and beer

when your huntin' safe out here

shootin' doves duckies dear

But when it comes to slaughter

You must set up close to water

If you hope to shoot brother hippo in the ear

Lay down in dusty, new-plowed dirt

Do it every starry night

Long, slow boring fright

Black as Satan's pit

[You gotta do your bit]

Dig your grave in Africque stinkin' dirt

Cold--yeah--freezing:  Why didn't I bring more clothes?

Can't see the nose before my face

What in Hell brought us to this place?

A week and three days more

God, I'm frozen to the core

Geld, bread, cash, thousands gone, did I doze?

Silence, quiet, don't whisper, please don't snore

Don't breath or pick your nose

Erich .375 magic bullet chose

.300 Win Mag stock a bitter, narrow axe

Ruger fools, but never, ever ask

Borrowed…we shoulda carried own and more

With scopes that might open up the blinding dark

Weatherby .416 to break the bastard's bones

Rolly-Polly, huge, squint-eyed hatred, Mother Jones

Kill ya for a nickel or so we're told

Anything to break the friggin' cold

Glorious Southern Sky, pocked with stars, a hippo fart?

Hippo huntin' on the Rio Bravo, why the Hell not?

It's the same thing

The same old goddam thing

No hippos there either

No crocs there neither

Massive carcass in the cane, Lord the stinking Rot

It's almost over now, no more painful, sleepless nights

no more nuthin', nada

no more friggin' Obama

no more endless shivers

dreaming of old Rolly up from rivers

shooting sticks, triggers, infrared, crashing in the cane, green unholy fright

Take it on my word: If you all can't hunt smarter, you gotta hunt harder

Hippo's ain't a lark

Not for the yellow faint of heart

Maybe for turkey callers

Or leopard darkling hunters

Bloated beast drifting slowly, slowly, slowly on the Lapala

Ron Braithwait  October,2015