Notes About The Poem
7/28/2025 for A Good Sense of Humour Blunts The Sharp Blade of Reality
The Capacity to Laugh
DNA spawns life and, too, the capacity to laugh,
which is a good thing, later, when those lives are torn in half.
Those three letters guide us down a long, rocky road,
through our behavior which that prankish molecule bestowed.
Yes, deoxyribonucleic acid is the name,
borne by the misguided chemical that I blame
for the unfortunate, darkly comical lives we lead
as it makes sure to screw us, as is guaranteed.
Our parents raise us, but you know they never understood.
They would have done much better if they only could.
We make a solemn vow, between ourselves and God,
that we won't make those mistakes (then, the parent path we trod).
At sixteen years or so, our young hearts must be broken,
and we must break another's heart, much by the same token.
All those genes really care about is that we reproduce,
and towards those purposes, we suffer such abuse.
We start work or college with the ideals known to youth,
as we strive for decency, honesty, and truth,
until one day, we're middle-aged and growing bald,
and our own corruption has today's youth appalled.
When our hair has all fallen out, and we're officially old,
we're neglected until our bodies finally grow cold.
Then, for once, people praise us and choose our epitaph.
I hope mine will say, "at least he had a good laugh".
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