1957 (Aries)

I wondered about Fermi's Paradox,

Why is nobody broadcasting like us?

Not even crap like TV ads for socks,

The galaxy is quiet.  No noise, no fuss.


I believed in one argument for why,

Intelligent life destroys itself fast,

Some smart sicko pokes his sun in the eye,

It explodes and his civ is gone, dead, past.


I didn't see what I could do about that,

It did make me think twice about my life,

I decided to wear a funky felt hat,

To commit myself to well-mannered strife.


The administrative point of view--nope!

I had to do more with my life than cope.






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