We, Robotica

Examining man’s middens
down to the medals
worn on chests of valor
up to corny excrements
a mammal far flung
into the Funk & Wagnalls

pity its waking
salute its sleeping
get busy its dull ongoings

decimated ten times
there is nothing left
sacked and burnt in peace and love
no war call to reduce men to ruin and rubble

the monkeys scream in the trees
horror-stricken their blood should flow in us
alpha gorilla beats its chest in denial of our relation

sad animal, we, denied by nature
cast from Eden by indifferent evolution
banished from the garden for our posture
our tilled earth
our sandwiches, ice creams
and the depleted uranium bullet casings
of our middens – prodded at
by the curious robots we left behind
to argue over creationism
and the bigger issue of the proper respect due
God’s fossilized shit


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