They Don't Ride Like Christians: A Darwinian Rock 'n Roll Fable

hailstones
as big as apples,
a Darwinian rock 'n roll
fable, vultures knowing of
these scenes hover overhead,

draggin' the line,

Charles Darwin
confided in his diary,
"you can't keep them, they
breed so fast Christian soldiers
more savage than pagans they are
destroying, "

it seemed to
Darwin it could
only end one way,
they retreat and eventually
extermination of the race, a
tempest, his theory of the survival
of the fittest,

we were
riding with
Darwin one
day, we had
a scare, Darwin
said "they don't ride
like Christians," three
gauchos caught site of
us, the Four Horsewomen,

just before dark
Darwin loaded his
pistol, ours were already,
we galloped over uneven
ground, the three gauchos
halted, they crawled on hands
and knees to reconnoitre, their
dogs lied down,

at the top
of the rise, we
gazed at the enemy
and burst out laughing,
it was three women hunting
for ostrich eggs,

one of the
gauchos horses
went lame, Darwin
gave her his horse and
he walked, many snakes
with black patches, yellow
lines and red tail,

draggin' the line,

ostriches lay
eggs in the middle
of the day, so it goes
on day after day, cranes
carry bundles of rushes
and after forty days, Darwin
with his beard, wide brimmed
hat, worn clothes, he looked like
a gold prospector coming into town
after a hard spell. He was leathery and
changed like the Four Horsewomen. He
called it Evolution.

Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist