Noah’s Arc
A wretched human invention;
a sad intellectual temptation
to jot and rot
with the words now solid
on paper as fragile
as our souls
to be thrown away
when comes the day
a death certificate to sign –
Will my pen outlast this time?
Or will another's make the mark
forgetting me with the other pigeons
in the park
to have coffee with Noah,
that bastard with the arc?
Who is to decide which animals
make it on board
his creaking and leaking
anthology from yesterday
to be read tomorrow
by the children of today?