Concerning the Mastodon
Footsteps plodded throughout the Pleistocene. Jumbo tusks pierced an extinct tomorrow’s sky. Traces of bloody sunsets trickled out which signified impending
rotten flesh; hairy ghosts became withered bones. Today their fossils provide blueprints to almost breathing skeletons erected for 5th grade field trips that require signed permission slips, and sack lunches.
Concerning the Caveman
Troglodyte. Neanderthal. Commonly pronounced: [THAWL]. Correct: [TAWL]. Tales of primal episodes like guttural stresses, like pounding on chests. Prehistoric artists who transformed caves into canvas. Hieroglyphs to record action and reaction. Forefather of flint, friction, and fire. User of tools to cultivate a virgin earth, unlike jackhammers that break ground for strip malls today.
Man and monkey share a similar species, but split into separate lineages and fathered different family trees. The strongest stock became bearers of the most desirable genes. It’s what all the planet was buzzing about, was buzzing from. Genetic codes switched to accommodate the weight of the world, which wasn’t a cliché back then, more of an experiment in mutation. The good died young. But the better survived.
“In the beginning he created the heavens and the earth.” Heavens and earth aren’t capitalized in the first sentence of Genesis. Neither is he. But he and derivatives are frequently capitalized in the rest of the Bible. “He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believes in Him.” If you could ask Him three questions, what would they be? Three is symbolic. “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” God created Adam, Eve, and apples. But Satan created snakes, seduction, and sin. God created the Gospel. The Gospel is words. Poetry is words. “Do not neglect the gift which is in you.” I bow my head and ask from my knees, “Who is responsible for conceiving and crucifying all the poems ever created?”
(Originally published in > kill author)