Bad Genes
My third wife is angry now, she knows that I cheated.
But I like life on the edge, so I told her to pack up and beat it.
Then I walked in Santa Monica, a man was lying in the path
He was in obvious pain, but I gave a nasty laugh
I passed a new store with an astrology sign.
On impulse I went in, and I waited in line.
I recognized partiers from my script writing days
Those parties got me addicted, when crack was the craze.
An assistant asked us permission to swab our cheeks
I started wondering, was this place for freaks?
Then a gypsy lady came out, beckoned me to a booth
She said “we’re high tech now; genes tell the truth."
“Your Dopamine receptors are all out of whack
Your D3 is high, I guess you take crack
Your D2 is low, are you an impulsive guy?
I said "so far you're on target my genes did not lie."
She said, "low vasopressin, do you cheat on your wife?"
I said, “I’m floored, it’s the story of my life!"
She said "I see your amygdala must be small:
"I would guess you don’t care about people at all.”
“On the good side, D1 is high, you're a creative type"
I said, “I write edgy scripts, and I’m great at hype!”
She held her nose, said "your profile gives me a fright.
"Forget the fee, there's the exit, get out of my sight!"
So I left the gypsy lady, walked out into the sun
Then a still small voice spoke, said "your story isn't done:
Why not change, rebel against those genes, leave the crypt?
Take charge of the plot and change the script!"
I looked around, couldn't see where the voice came from:
I shrugged it off, then I began to run.
I thought I'm no hypocrite, I know myself; I don't care
It's the others, the do-gooders, who do most harm out there.
I wondered if anyone knows themselves for real
Are values everlasting, or are values what we feel?
I didn't want to break the mold, I wanted to be me
But that nagging voice echoed - which direction makes you free?
Copyright ©
Gideon Oknin
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