by
James R. Muri
I am the Human.
I am the most magnificent creation of God.
I am the end of the food chain.
This planet is my food.
And when I leave this planet
For the next one on the menu,
As surely that will be
That will be for me, but not you.
I rejoice in the taste of flesh,
Roasted, fried, baked, and raw.
Of cooked roots and fruit, or fresh.
I will consume and enjoy it all.
Tell me I'm wrong, you unwashed vermin.
You microbus parasites who utter shrieks
At the sight of red meat, a fallen tree, a girl in ermine.
You who hate humans, you are freaks.
This planet is mine. All that it has.
Mine to enjoy, to use, to scavenge.
You deny that? You say you'll make laws?
You say we shouldn't? Take my challenge.
Park your microbus. Shed your clothing,
Your shoes. Find a sharp rock, and thus armed
Go into the wilderness. And do not eat meat,
Nor wear the hides of animals, nor fell nor harm.
But leave a marker at where you depart
Into the wilderness.
For there, in memorium, some compassionate
Human will place a stone in kindness.
Then he will go to Denny's for a Grand Slam,
Followed by a steak, rare and juicy,
And a cup of coffee brewed from fossil fueled
Power plants will be lifted to your idiocy.
Fools of dazzle, fools of pop-spin sudoscience.
Unwilling to learn, Ignorant of truth -
You won't see the ultimate Man-God Alliance.
We will outgrow this Petri Earth.
We will go to the stars, there to seek
More God-Given Beauty to mine,
to feed upon, to fuel, to use,
To change, to improve, to leave behind.
Copyright, 1996 by James R. Muri