(A message for a Very Christian Speaker)
“. . . his [Mike Johnson’s] past legal work–
on behalf of the Ark Encounter creationist
theme park, where children can learn that
dinosaurs were passengers on Noah’s Ark –
seems to suggest that he’s also personally
aligned with these beliefs.” Huffington Post
Cruising a flooded world seemed like a lark;
instead, it was an agony of chores –
and all because we took those dinosaurs.
We made the wise decision to embark
at the first sprinkles of the promised rain.
For weeks we’d labored steadily to train
the animals – but dinos won’t be led.
When we set sail, we had already shed
twelve smaller beasts who’d fed some passing shark.
Daily we toiled below, without a spark
to guide us in our work. We’d stoop to scoop
enormous quantities of dino poop.
Blood, sweat and shit disfigured every plank.
Within three days each stall and cabin stank.
The strain of heavy labor left its mark
on Ham. His neck acquired a painful twist
beyond the touch of any therapist.
Japheth no longer chews – Triceratops
broke loose one day and whacked him in the chops.
Dimetrodon sparked allergies in Shem,
and ever since he coughs up quarts of phlegm.
There’s none who served who hasn’t felt some change.
You may well think: the ways of God are strange.
The flood subsided; we contrived to park
askew upon the slopes of Ararat,
opened the doors as it was growing dark.
Apatosaurus squashed the dodos flat.
Confined too long, our necrophile T. Rex
slaughtered five female mammals just for sex.
Throughout the night we heard a dismal chorus,
wails from the prey pursued by Allosaurus.
I cannot tell how many creatures died –
discretion counseled us to run and hide.
The carnage was horrendous, I confess.
Morning revealed the mountain was a mess.
We’d done our best. The trouble was our Lord
insisted that we take the brutes on board.
Please tell the world the truth about the ark.
