Family matters
You sit in the tunnel, you
have no legs.
What are you?
Brooding, I sit in the tube
waiting expectantly.
What am I?
Excited, we thrash in the convoluted
corridors, prematurely impatient.
What are we?
Suddenly, all hell breaks loose!
Pompeii erupts. You hold on with
no arms and legs, braced for the
tsunami.
I sit on the edge of my slippery seat,
seemingly impregnable. A tremor
shudders through my very being,
anticlimactic.
Not yet.Not yet.Hold the line!
We move as one, every nook and cranny,
nothing escapes our apoplexy.
We swim for our lives, jostling for
position.
We waited our whole lives for this.
Quick boys! Into the trench. Cleverly,
I hitch a ride on the bald heads of my !
companions, saving my energy for
the final push.
Darwinian awards left, right, and centre.
"Baldy" swims too low, and explodes
against the trench wall. "Kojak" breaks his
back, and "Mike Matozoa" loses
his head.
I wriggle out of trouble , straight
towards a bubble. "Easy as shelling
peas!" I ejaculated, as I impaled the
gelatinous mass with the same gusto
as a smouldering match
enters a marshmallow.
The plan was well conceived. I repeat
myself over and over again, conjugating
with nucleic aplomb, a fission mission.
Mate, it's "game over" for me, but for you
it's just starting. Good luck with that.