John Haag wrote poetry, too.
That little ape that came down from a tree
and used a stick on his enemy
and called aloud to his family
to show what a great brave ape was he
made followers out of you and me.
That little ape that got caught in the rain
and used some branches to cover his brain
and thought up gods for rain and for tree
to explain away the mystery
made worshippers out of you and me.
That little ape that had more than enough
and didn’t know what to do with the stuff
and instead of handing it out for free
put others to work for a salary
made employees out of you and me.
That little ape that schemed and planned
and put a fence around some land
and told his followers they’d be free
if they fought his next-door enemy
made soldiers out of you and me.
That ape whose stick is his bravery
whose ignorance makes theology
whose avarice makes wage-slavery
and makes a cause for nationality
makes monkeys out of you and me.