Diatryma
In prehistoric times,
I would have been dead already.
If I had not died, then
I would have been
pretty ancient by now, but no,
I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have made it.

You see,
it would have been one of those
survival of the fittest things,
and let’s face it:
if the survival of the human race
had depended upon the sperm
stumbling about in this man’s gonads,
then we’d likely see
Cro-Mags and Neanderthals
lumbering about the local shopping mall with
all the other mouth breathers
(…now, come to think about it…).
Okay… Well,
them what congregate in shopping malls?
I’m not sure whether we can blame evolution
or intelligent design on that one.
Anyway…
I digress.
We were talking Homo-Jack-Idiot,
lesser sub-species of the illustrious Homo Sapien,
somewhat circa sixty thousand years BC.
It was rough back then.
Let me give you an example:
You could not get a fried Twinkie or a
strawberry banana smoothie to save your life.
And a few fried Twinkies
might have been all I needed to stay alive.

No. Back in the day of Mastodon ploppy pies,
you had to get your own food, and no,
not get your food as in
a short stroll across the food court.
Now it is true that somebody
had come up with the idea of
vending machines but
we’d yet to devise coins
so we had nothing to drop in the slots.

Again, you had to get your
own food,
and of course,
before you could get it,
you had to see it.

You’d see a Diatryma,
a giant carnivorous ostrich-like bird.
You’d yell out, “Hey look! A Diatryma,
a giant carnivorous ostrich-like bird!
Let’s go get it!”
But okay, here’s the problem: I
can’t see for shit!
Frickin’ blind I am.
Oh, you can’t tell, cuz
I’ve deceived you.
See, I wear contacts.
At this moment,
I could see a Diatryma,
a giant carnivorous ostrich-like bird.
But back in the day
(caveman times),
I wouldn’t have been able to see nothin’.

Okay. Let’s say there was this cave girl.
We’ll call her Veronica.
I’d say, “Hey Veronica!
Can I pass just a few million
spermatozoa along to you?”
(You know.
Just a simple attempt to propagate those
Homo-Jack-Idiot genes).
And Veronica?
Oh, she would respond,
“Now why should I like, mate with you?
Could you like, see and go get me a
Diatryma, you know, like one of those
giant carnivorous ostrich-like birds,
if I like, asked you to?
You… You?
You are like
so not mating with me!”

Gahhh! What a bitch.
It’s always big birds with these cave women!

So, you see,
this is how it was.
Any dude who brought a big bird into a woman’s cave
got his sperm where it was supposed to be.
And me, the blind Homo-Jack-Idiot sub-species?
Well, there I was,
outside that nice warm cave.
Totally dejected.

Yes, standing there quite oblivious
when one of the other cavemen yells,
“Jack! There’s a saber tooth tiger
right behind you!”
And I’d say,
“Um…Where?”
“Right there!
Right there! He’s…
ouch!”

And such would have been my fate.
A monster pussy eating me
as opposed to
vice versa.

©05 Jack Hubbell