God And Darwin Poem by Niklas Henningsson

they have class and
beer and fashionable
sunglasses

they have kneelong swimshorts
and brown skin smeared in glossy
oil

they sit on bathtowels
unconcerned
laughing and scouts the equally unconcerned women
who are in the game and
have the boys kept on gridiron

a melting pot of muscles and chest
and I think Darwin little realized
this when he spoke of
wildflowers and copulating

suddenly I understand worldwars
and indian hookahs
and Mozart

these boys and girls,
how carefree they progressing
over the hot beach,
has it all and at the same time
nothing

God is sleeping up there in his heaven
with Darwin lying dead at
his feet
and no one is guilty