The Pliocene Clam (Poem)

Sabre-toothed bi-valves patrolling the plains
Selecting our gene pool while chewing on brains.
Nature is perilous: danger's at hand!
The ravenous man-eating Pliocene clam.

Oysters and scallops---all pelecypod
Bow in submission to Mighty Quahog.
Nature's in balance, there's danger to man:
The ravenous man-eating Pliocene clam.

The larval soft body! That ligament scar!
The unique pteroid bivalve a wonder to all.
When the new pelecypod did struggle to land,
It was the end of the man-eating Pliocene clam.


[I wrote this poem in appreciation of a joke email I get forwarded from time to time that claims to be correspondence between the Smithsonian Institute and a man who found a skull in his back yard that he believes proves that humans lived in North America two million years ago, and which shows signs of biting that he believes proves that early humans were hunted by giant clams. The Smithsonian writer dryly notes that “A) The specimen looks like the head of a Barbie that a dog has chewed on” and “B) Clams don’t have teeth." ---Yappa]

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