The Law of Club and Fang

Jack London echoed Darwin.

A man will not use the claws given by his
fathers for the simple fact that he has none.
His fingers are better suited to digging, or
to finding a broad stick that serves better.
Against a foe they mean little more than
many negligible scratches – they are like
twigs to the man in gleaming gold armor.

He will not use his teeth because they
are as hazy as his hands and digits.
They would rend and tear only if the
rest of the mouth were uninvolved,
uncomfortable allies in the ongoing
struggle of tongue and bile – of this
war our wild opponents know nothing.

And he will not use his muscle, as his
brawn is easily bested in primal worlds.
He may tow an automobile at his peak,
or pull a refrigerator, with the aid of wheels,
but he is ill-adapted to his few strengths.
Man has grown in a world of metal, and
his rivals have known the pleasures of dirt.

These three laws my grandfather taught,
as though we sat upon the edge of chaos.
He came of age in the hills of Oklahoma;
my Eastern ears could not realize his words.
H.H. was a discernibly plain man with little
appreciation for his more beastly traits.
His life was a story he ingeniously told.

Reviews

[Legion]

Well done. It is a miracle that we as a species have survived for so long without the real ability to survive on our own. If it wasn't for our brains (most of ours anyway), we never would have continued. Good write. Love it.