Became alive in your sixteen-
Month-old imagination. Thought
Took hold of you to make a scene--
An eye-spark warning, then--attack!--
You thrust the snake toward your mom
And hissed, expecting her to back
Away in fear. An insight bomb
Goes off in me--you know before
You're told that snakes are scary things,
And that your mom should be afraid--
Your spark belies intention, flings
Away false theories. You have made
The argument for knowledge we
Were born with. Hissing snakes invade
And your Dimetrodon bites me
Across my belly as you grin--
You were not taught these things, but you
Use ancient knowledge found within,
Evolved to help us know what's true.
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