Man, thy goose is nigh but cooked

With no more than a handful of tired genes, It seems, thou hast not much time to mend ways, O rid thy blinkers in the rest of days, Long have ye played lead roles with meagre means, Ye can’t strut around once the curtain calls, Ye get dumped to life's dustbin, all extinct, Act O Dense Head, ye had had enough hint, Biology or gender, can’t be false. From being gender determining male, Beware, from Y to why stand but few steps, Hurry, the race is running last few laps, Nature has made up mind to drive last nail, And if not red, the signal’s clear orange, Miss it and done is Nature’s red revenge. _______________________________________ The Y chromosome (the determinant of male sex) made up of 1400 genes earlier has been reduced to only 45 genes (three percent) and is still depleting, as per research. In the next five million years it would be defunct as dodo. But one can guess: Man would think, ah five million years, plenty of time to twiddle! (In reality, there is very little that man can do. But despite his bravado, male is quite vulnerable vis-à-vis female of the species. This sonnet makes fun of him.) Sonnets (Tongue-in-cheek)| 01.07.2009 |