Curriculum Vitae

Since we all make mistakes. Or do we call them.

Sins. Flaws. Jokes. Political statements. Faith.

We can't tell what we do. Where we heading to.

You can conclude we are lost like motherless

polar bear cubs at Antarctica. We are weaker

than blind ant eaters in the shadow of rain trees.

Would someone write a biography of the human

race. It would be a laughing stock. The only

question that will be valid. Why do they still

exist? Why haven't they vanish, disappear, die?

Why do they still sit on terraces, laugh, drink

wine, run around in circles, make love, lullaby?

Is it because we make mistakes? We are fallible?

And therefore. Optimistic. Robust. Admirable?