Elsewhere, Robyn Hitchcock opines that humanity is “an evolutionary leap that's probably not going to work, and unfortunately it knows it's not going to work. That's part of the appeal of the Frankenstein's monster. You know, the look in the monster's eyes—it knows it's this hideous deformed creature that's going to throw little girls in the river, but it would like to be something better. And that's pretty much us.”

I caught intelligence today:

Different eyes from the others,

It thrashed in the sink and I called Renee.

“Hey, check this out.”

“How do we handle it?”

“So it's comfortable and feels nothing when we drain its mind.”

“Uh-huh”

So we lay it on the counter

And sliced into its hypothalamus

And for a moment it carried on staring as if at a distant timetable and then—it looked at us.

“Look at Renee,” I willed it, being smart and cowardly.

It flapped its tail and looked at Renee to oblige me,

Like a saint under torture;

Then it reared up towards my face, for a kiss or a bite.

“Renee,” I yelled. “It's moving. Do something now. Renee?”

But she looked at me with her eyes adjusted and did nothing.

So intelligence was inches from my face as its life ebbed on the enamel.

Its eyes reflected me pitifully, mercilessly:

A hairy boar with rodent snout and weak sad cruel mean eyes.

And I knew that only death would ever compensate for my humanity.

There is no forgiveness but oblivion, I realized:

Intelligence will change places with us one day and a miracle will occur,

But not in words that we can speak;

We are too lethal to resurrect

Too stupid to continue

Too dangerous to survive

And just intelligent enough to know that every word is true, Renee.