TOOLS, WEAPONS, HOMO ERECTUS
Your guess is as good as mine, evolutionary Earth wobbles, orbits and ad infinitum repitition
Happened one and nine tenths million years ago, early man was a trapper, for food and fur
Tools of bone and trophies of the anima skulls aligned on the cave wall’s ledge of dirty gold
Prey killed might be you except for your ingenuity, kill or be killed for two million years, sold.
A theory left by the evidence buried underground and through signs scratched into cave walls
Fire and the ice left over when it’s gone forever are the blocks used to let me get here to write
About blown covers, misaligned intent to do what thou wilt, disfigured my 208 bones’ space
Menudo of Homo Habilis and Homo Erectus become what we are, these Homo Sapiens’ guts.
Cooked food, digests quicker than the raw junk of death’s leftovers, fat guts and fire create us
Lookin’ for trouble after existence has terminated, finding it, a socially accepted happy space
Extinction of all species, ours and all species animated or endangered is immanent, in Time
Into a black hole and I mean deeply, past the Event Horizon, mind distortion to the sun sign.
Pretending that moderation is enough to succeed at surviving is the death of you and yours
Perfection’s imperfection is that it is allowed to exist inside of an ignoramus or a gym rat
Primitive or modern, great white apes mutated from the chimp into a human-divine blood
Indeed, anthropological and historical records carbon dated, yields stupid, killer apes of God.
Run and hide from the things that are hungry enough to want to smell your blood, to eat you
Burying the bones after burning the fleshly organic matter that keeps the thing alive, moving
It is what we know well, how to hide the deceased, to provide protection from scavenger teeth
Explosion of your genes from your ancestors and on to your descendants, you civilized seat!
Earth and other planets revolve about the nuclear star, Father sun, for the love of the group
No other higher reason for the 93 million mile trip every year on Earth, nuggets of mama
Round, not square, tribe killers of the good, bad and ugly species’ forms of every kind, anima
Eating humans, breaking bad boys and good girls, hunters of man drank all of cosmic soup.
Underwater and underground, from the beaches to the top and bottom of a hot cosmic stew
Citizens who have been protected from the Truth will never find It, It is hidden in the light
Fascinated with the points, the lines, the figures and shapes, the colors from red to blues
Dead and buried, the Truth is out there, in here, it loosens the chains, I’m Nothing to fight.
by
r j j stephan, i { *Sculpture of the header is #TheKiss by @AugusteRodin, 1889 A.D. }
c. April 24, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST
{ drafted while in random-stasis, listenin’ to #TheHistoryOfEarth on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/RQm6N60bneo }
W.W.A.R.D.?
