Mouths can drink a Big Gulp
Set hot dog records for Nathan's
Antagonize the stomach of too many margaritas
Even amplify each night's snoring largo
Yet perhaps its destiny lies
in perpetuating language to communicate
this organ of molding
and shaping sound
How sad then
this sorrowful bio-megaphone
Have we forever lost the will
to "do the right thing?"
Is there confusion reigning here?
Has the brain crossed wires?
Wasn't the other orifice
designed to purge waste?
Have we grown weary
and worn from habitual duplicity?
Are we rapidly returning
to a one-cell existence?
Can we believe our texts
and trust evolution will sort out this
Let us hope such is the answer...right?
This doesn't last, does it?