Dear Darwin

I saw you, Charles,
as you sat outside on the deck of a ship,
breathing in Malthus,
hoisting tea to your mouth
in a cup as white as your ghost

I bit my tongue, Charles,
as you erased me from history.
You discovered part truths,
but you took them as a whole.
Sipping your tea so smugly,
I can't change your mind.

I thought it sad, Charles,
that your soaring intellect romanced the world,
passed off and passed down as truth in textbooks.
But you soared too high on wings too frail,
too close to the sun and something you could not hold.
Now your soaring intellect has been clipped,
caught in a mousetrap which you can't reduce.
You are now a worthless sparrow,
but you're still worth everything.

If the whole world believes you, Charles,
then surely the world will evolve...
into something without me,
something close to hell.

Evolve and survive.
Otherwise I can't select you, naturally.