Is there a human race…

Hands on a globeIt’s been a long, long time

since I’ve heard the expression,

‘the human race’ like I once did from

my father who invoked the phrase

in the ‘60’s vernacular of our one,

global world, nations united and east

and west divided so clearly

all was known, though all wasn’t safe.

 

In his own way I was chided to

behave civilly and not gad about as an

unevolved mouth-breathing Neanderthal

with the future of said human race

depending on my sitting erect, listening

politely in a play at détente, opening doors

for all types of women, regardless, and

not wasting food because children

are starving elsewhere.

 

And there was, apparently, a membership card

to this human race that I was continually in

danger of forfeiting through my mostly slovenly,

sometimes disrespectful, manners which

fell to my father to supervise

as his role in bettering said human race

inasmuch as he was able

and to the extent to which I was pliable.

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