A Short History of Mankind

In watery mud I came to birth.
Old Neptune wound his wreathèd horn,
A cellule split its sides for mirth,
And so my ancestors were born.

Wetly and in a tidal land
I dwelt till I was ninety-five,
When someone shook me by the hand
And told me that I was alive.

By then my legs had shrunk to two,
My gills were useless in the sea,
And trouble was about to brew
Between the flowery world and me.

I measured how the sun was made
And slew the dodo in his den,
Invented fizzy lemonade
And borrowed someone’s ball-point pen.

Since there was no more room on top,
I went and dug a mighty hole.
I ate a polystyrene chop
And read a book on birth control.

I lived awhile on vintage port
In caverns measureless to man,
Till even luxuries ran short
And I was back where I began.

The lovely atoms still entwine
To timeless music, by request.
I hope the weather turns out fine
For all of us the Church has blessed.