In the lonely glow of some small hour
revelation can be clutched
out of the daydream channel
by hunched men
who tug their beards
and set their jaws like idle anvils.

But they dream on
and do nothing about it,
whereas
it occurs to me that I could write a novel
brim full of lurid realism
concerning
the exploitation of dolphins.

The central character might be a journalist
of the investigative type,
young and gung-ho
and full of enthusiastic naivety,
concerned about conservation,
shocked by the obscene exploitation
and the horrific interaction
between south-sea islanders
and the dolphin desperation.

He would be partnered
by a somewhat cynical
National Geographic photographer
who is only in it
for the money,
but by about page 150 he starts to be concerned,
starts to see that
the slaughter of dolphins is not funny.

There would be the involvement
of an animal loving woman,
and from her point of view
he begins to understand
and is shocked by
the innocent nobility
of these persecuted sea-mammals
as they are herded onto sun-kissed beaches
and hacked at with rusty blades
powered by sinewy native arms,
and left to flap hopelessly
in their own bloody coagulations,
and he feels rage as he looks
into their vulnerable and unblinking eyes,
and all this in a so-called paradise
where need is greater than any regulation.

And so the young journalist
would become stronger in character
because of this harrowing experience,
he would now be stripped
of the charm that made him so attractive
in the first 120 pages.
And the photographer would be drinking a lot
and would now be argumentative and difficult.
And there would be a power struggle, of sorts, between them,
concerning the girl of course,
so I would introduce another woman into the plot
to kind of even it up a bit, or spice it up a lot,
the possibilities are endless.

So, lets see - that would be four goody types,
trying to somehow save dolphins,
against a band, or tribe,
of machete wielding south-sea islanders
who kill dolphins to survive.
Nice moral dilemma developing here.
And there would have to be a protagonist murder incident,
and perhaps some police corruption or bribery,
and an unhappy love-affair scenario
smouldering in the background
as a kind of sub-plot.
And there would be a tropical storm,
blowing over the coconut palms,
nice and dramatic.
But none of that would do anything
to help the plight
of the exploited dolphins - remember them ?

About 400 pages would do it I reckon.
But I would need a 6 week trip to a tropical paradise
for the purposes of research,
and to experience the atmosphere of the whole thing,
and I might even actually really see dolphins being exploited.
But the investment would definitely pay off.
The book would be a hit,
and there would be a film,
and other spin-offs,
and I could donate a percentage to dolphin welfare
or something equally worthwhile.
And I could start acting smug
because I would have helped
save dolphins from extinction,
I think.

Actually, I don't know if any of that is true.
I might just be tugging at my beard
in some small hour
and daydreaming again.
There are probably more direct
and effective ways
to save dolphins ,
if I really wanted to.
And writing a book about dolphin exploitation
would be such a thankless chore anyway,
I mean, who really cares about dolphins, alive or dead ?
So I'll just hunch over this lonely keyboard
and write a poem about it instead.