on the importance of exercise among birds

The fat, flightless kakapo’s almost extinct.
Its name means “night parrot” in Māori, I think.
It scrambles amongst underbrush, pops
its head through wet foliage, raindrops
anointing its feather-bearded visage,
and cries “Cullaloo! Hoo cheep hoo!” to a village
of natives who’d love to wring its chubby neck
and use those speckled green feathers to bedeck
their tribal robes for other such business
as any remaining kakapos might witness
if they happen to be waddling in the vicinity.
But most kakapos have moved on to eternity
and now muddle along, in heaven or hell,
no longer panicked by the Māori hunting bell,
no longer beset by fatness. O unathletic birds
whose name is a combination of Māori words,
what was your downfall? What led to your rout?
It’s apparent your species just didn’t work out.