Darwin’s Café
I will—
believe you to death
oh, wondrous one!
Till no one is left
under the sun.
(In the midst of mistakes
the soul doth burn
lest we make a noose
of the ropes we learn.)
“This primordial soup
is full of hogwash and hair,
and I think there’s something
alive in there....?”
Said a gaggle of geezers
with one collective tooth
whom obviously pissed in the fountain of youth.
“Oh, great waiter—
SEND IT BACK.
and have Darwin shaved, neutered, and sterilized.”
They taped a note to the side of the bowl:
“We’d rather eat from the forbidden tree
than swallow this shit.
Sincerely,
The Flat Earth Society
a.k.a. The Dead End Kids”
The chef was pissed
at the note he saw;
came out with his knife
and gutted them all;
wrote a message in their blood
across the walls—
It read:
SUCK MY BIG FAT DINOSAUR BALLS
Well—
The moral of the story is dead.
Stop putting chains on the slaves in your head.
The All is incomprehensible, so—
You can either
always think more
about the I don’t know
Or—
Keep spinning your web of lies
till you shrivel up and die
come back as a spider
and have to eat flies.
Have you ever even drawn a rainbow before?
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