Humanimal Poem by Mary Champion

Humanity was not designed from scratch -
there was no pre-existing blueprint,
no purposeful creator -
rather, we just happened.

It was inevitable, given time -
a rather unhappy accident
that came to and found itself
bewilderingly in Hell.

After aeons of aimless floundering
we hit on the concept of self-help.
Then we took ourselves in hand
and aimed for perfection.

But perfection is unattainable.
We are prisoners of our nature.
We are not pieces of fine art -
more like Heath Robinson.

Finally we faced up to Reality -
accepted we'd never be angels.
We have to content ourselves
with curbing the devil.

Now, in our time, we have lost sight of Truth -
gone back to striving for perfection,
trying precise programming,
for faultless functioning.

Then, when our animal nature intrudes
on our ever more grandiose dreams,
we try brutal suppression
and weep at the carnage.

We are risen apes - not fallen angels.
We are not guilty of our failures.
All we can do is our best
and our best must suffice.

We have great imagination combined
with superb intelligence and if
we use them to understand,
not for self-delusion,

we can achieve everything we need -
as opposed to what we think we want,
and find harmless outlets
for our basest instincts.