REMEMBERING THE HORNS OF A DINOSAUR DILEMMA
As far as the eye can see,
it was all one big bloody continent.
No one was figuring on going extinct.
No one had any idea what the hell was extinct.
I guess when we say wipe out
we mean a really humongous downer of a day.
Horsetails come and go, but flying reptiles last forever
or so they thought on those cross-country family vacations.
Jurassic times here we come equipped with fangs
and more fun shit that comes with grazing up a storm.
Pouches for food and a supply of back teeth
that came in handy when a Lufengosaurus herd dropped by.
It was more digging for the dreamers who wanted
to calculate what a collection of bones could be worth.
When the great lizard ran around laying havoc,
no one was calling for mommy to tuck you in.
Surprise surprise when out of the limestone quarries,
a big guy called Megalosaurus danced a pelvic jig.
Whenever I take a stumbling walk
on the wild side of history and land on something Jurassic,
I take pause as I study all the plates
that may give rise to our impending extinction.
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