E.O. Wilson, you, no doubt,
know evolution inside out
and evidently you subscribe
to the standard diatribe,
that women, given choice, will think,
and cause their family size to shrink.
Now, I'd predict you'd find a few
who'd somehow still extrude a slew,
and how could any trait be more
easily selected for?
And hence the demographic trend
would rapidly approach its end
and then, as by some cosmic curse,
would tend to shift into reverse.
Of course, I'm some pathetic chap
who never really learned this crap,
and lowly as I am, bow down
before your knowledge and renown,
and blushing for my paltry brain,
beg you humbly to explain.

Suppose a government could be
other than a travesty.
Suppose that it could really plan
for the betterment of man.
Suppose we managed to fulfill
our promises to spread good will.
Suppose that we would always find
that no one had been left behind.
Suppose a system was devised
that never could be compromised.
Suppose you just shut up because
it never will and never was.

Ask someone clever, a person you trust,
what the country will do when the fossils go bust.
What's that by his ear? A flick of a tail?
"I really don't think that our fuel's gonna fail."
Isn't that brain dust I see by his shoe?
"The market will save us the way that they do."
I hear something chewing. "Our history's laced
with the fact that technology's always replaced."
His answers seen tenuous, nebulous, vague,
as we've come to expect in the brain-borer plague.

A party runs on more than wills
'cause someone has to pay the bills.
They quibble over guns and health,
but rich men get to reap the wealth,
so this year's choice was not that hard;
we voted for the wildcard,
a TV star, though quite obtuse,
a madman with his cannons loose;
we chose the psychopathic ham
in hopes to dynamite the dam.

The fossils run out, as the school children know;
we should have stopped pumping a long time ago.
It means being poorer; the masses would howl.
We acted judiciously, threw in the towel,
deciding it's better we simply pretend,
and do better now and implode at the end.
The rich of our country our leaders beseech
to do as they're bidding and money is speech,
and not being stupid, they're certain to note
it's best to buy leaders who won't rock the boat,
and they pay their henchmen to bleat and emote
so the salt of the Earth is informed how to vote.
Where once we had college so kids could aim high
we now have a system for bleeding them dry
and maybe you've noticed despite how you voted,
your workload increased and your income eroded.
When government fails to do what it should,
sooner or later the warlords look good
as you already know if you're down in the hood,
and now that it's failed it shouldn't surprise
we've come to the point where the demagogues rise,
and we on Thanksgiving have gratefully thanked
to live on a carpet that's yet to be yanked.

Yellowstone is, so I've heard,
St. Helens times ten to the third,
The pressure needs to be relieved
and hence the plan that I've conceived:
We'll nuke it just a little bit
and pop it like a giant zit,
in so doing letting go
a minor pyroclastic flow
and smoking out East Idaho
for maybe fifty years or so
but for some reason I don't know
enthusiasm's rather low.

The old folks seem to find it grand
living in the Phoenix sand,
but the Colorado's running dry
and waters gonna go sky high
and government's not working great
and bank funds may evaporate;
their whole life's there but it's hard to care
when the cooling system blows hot air
and things will finally look too black
and they'll pack up the Cadillac,
the wife in front and Fifi back,
sitting on the diaper sack,
but gas is high and they won't be rich
and pretty soon they'll have to hitch,
and there's California, too, recall,
and I think Montana needs a wall.