Copyright©2004 by Cocomo Rock All rights reserved.
I was born into this screaming pit
—of need
This host of mortal flesh
—that will rot away
Rot and stink away.
Much too soon—for some
And not nearly soon enough—for others.
Meanwhile, I will eat and I will sleep.
I will fart; I will defecate
And I will often have pain.
I will bleed, and I will laugh sometimes
Until it hurts too much to go on.
Then I will cry—until my hurting stops.
Look to me as I rise up, so good and right!
Am I not much too good—too right to be so terribly wrong?
Have I not succeeded in all of my plans?
How then say you that I have sinned of purpose?
Lost sight of might and moment?
I beget the seeds of life
From loins that are rife with the fruit
Of good and evil
—intentions.
I have sprung up unto myself—a Titan
Spawned of the Paternal Blood
Whereof, I was called “the man.”
When this should cease to be true of me,
Then I will have lost
My tenuous hold on space and time.
Then shall I relinquish my claim
To humanity.
