4/8/04
Could fill pages, even more than the genomes
That map a man into sentience,
Whose plotters nod to him, smiling
At their mental forbearer who taught us
Time left us nothing we didn't need.
Father, they call him,
Laughing at the ones who pray to God,
As they spend their Sundays
Encrypting man on paper as
A solution to the blindness of faith.
Their children learn in school
To hold hands and help a friend
Make it safely to the bathrooms,
Learn at home that food they leave
Will deprive a proverbial boy.
It's the trickling of religion:
All of it has come from
Worthless sacrifices of beneficial men.
All of those who die for the intangible
Are fainter copies of the original Ink.
And they think, Isn't man
A product of millenia? Isn't faith just
A tool we've used to keep ourselves alive?
And they give laud to Darwin
While the people left in church thank God
He gave us nothing that we don't need to survive.
