In the Final Analysis
By: Connie Woodring
Birth… No choice here. An infant is placed on a roller coaster seat. The operator asks
nonchalantly, “Oops! Did I fasten the seat belt?” after the car has made its initial climb.
Gender… An exaggerated, distorted extravaganza of dark frosted cherry lipstick, muscle shirts,
peacock and bird of paradise feathers. Amoebas do just fine.
Passion, love, sex… A chemical soup that gets slurped while hot and gagged on
when it gets tepid.
Parents… Hapless spores floating in the air, accidently bumping into each other causing
more spores, birth, gender, passion, love, sex, parents.
Children… Hapless souls never falling far from the Tree of Ignorance.
Ego… The enemy of the people.
Super ego… Nuclear war of the mind.
Death… The final analysis.