DNA

It took hundreds of generations
Of selective breeding to produce
The specimen that is me
Armed with the intellect of
Three generations, and the instincts
Dating back to Adam,
Refined and perfected,
Here I write without fear.
Don’t dismiss me with your excuses,
You’re no better than me, him or her
Each of us like stars, our own places
In the universe.
Love me, respect me,
And I shall do the same to you.

I have a feeling that the
Things you consider taboo
Actually happen all the time
In every home and in every childhood.
We carry the weights throughout our
Adolosence, and into our adulthood,
Releasing the secrets to people along the
Way, as if releasing pressure to avoid
An explosion.
Som top secret government facility
Buried under the rug.
Underground, floors and floors of metallic
Chambers.
In the bottom floor are the things
You did to others,
And then the things that largely defined
Your teenage years, like that distant
Relative, or something in some classroom –
Higher up are mistakes that make you blush.
Fears perpetuated by the establishment
That claims to know wrong from right –
Anything you do with honest intentions
Can’t be wrong, right?
Let’s open our hatches, let all the
Gas leak out,
Let’s confront our mistakes, as well as theirs.
But the world is much lighter,
Without those poisonous underground chambers.