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Natural selection poem

Casey Killingsworth

Every girl I loved
in high school or
at least every one
I dreamed about
ended up with
a boyfriend
from another school,
and I hated them
for that because all
the chances I never
had anyway died again,
like running over
a dead animal on
your way home.
I know now they
were instinctively
driven to perpetuate,
to seek out their
best prospects, the shiny athletes or
intellectual student
body presidents, so
their own babies would
defend the genome, you know, date boys
from other schools. I know now it was just natural selection
because all of us wished we carried that favored gene too.

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