Darwinism, knowledge, the moon and who we are – what’s it all about?
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “Wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
Life is Unrelated
Let’s take monkeys, for instance,
which Darwin says we came from;
but which part of that statement is wrong?
Both, you say?
monkeys are first of all not apes
and Darwin said apes,
Darwin didn’t know diddle-squat.
I relish how the moon,
when you stare at it long enough,
can sting your eyes, make them tear,
while being only a reflection of light;
tonight it is a small chop, a slash,
a gash, formed like a scythe
sharpened through a long strap of darkness.
Whatever knowledge we have
is like that moon;
and like that monkey, I shimmy, shake,
purse my lips,
kiss up the night,
jump, pound my chest, want to fly to the moon,
merge with something bigger
commit the great eternal crime,
eat the apple,
and handle my banishment with dignity.