The Chorus of Ten Thousand Sperm

Storming the beaches of Norma Jean
Category 5 white water and nobody’s got their helmet on
Cruising the eerie canal
Necropolis down under or
Adam and Eve’s last resort
The spawning grounds of one--
One lone survivor
Outwit, outlast, outplay
That’s what they say.

And they’re off
An army of Ben-Bob’s finest, ten thousand wiggly whiskers
“I’m bigger”
“I’m longer”
“I’m smarter”
“You’re stupid, but she’s pretty and you’re ugly.”

And there it is
a round fuzzy orb, a full moon,
a pearl just sitting there
waiting-- will somebody please fulfill my destiny?

A thousand tails turn at once.
“Hey Bob, I’m hungry. What’s that ahead?”
“Baby come to Papa.”
“Ain’t she cute?”
“It’s not a she, Bob.”
“Oh, don’t be disgusting. I can’t eat that.”
“It’s not a he either.”
“Oh.”

The race is on.
“Hey, Bob I’ll race you to it.”
“Last one there is a rotten egg.”
“I’m faster.”
“Well, I’m-uh?- I’m-uh? I have better balance.”
Caboom! Crash!-- into the wall.
“That’s not the mark, you idiot.”

Convergence.
One thousand attack
Tight packed and tails flying

The “men” circled their wagons.
“Alright men here’s what we need to do.”
The “women” just went to the door.

Chomp-chomp, wiggle-wiggle.
“Hey, where’s the door?”
“There is no door, Jan-- gosh.”
“Knock, knock.”

For a moment -- a hush on the war zone.
Tails stand in salute
And Jan sneaks in.
“Told you so.”

And they all go marching down to the ground,
To get out of their shame.