Re-Writing 'Noah's Ark'

When we set out on our adventure the ark is filled with my grandchildren and a flock of chickens, plus a poet who makes me laugh—everything extraneous has been thrown overboard.

One of the grandchildren, the oldest, age 15, complains, “there’s no Wi-Fi.” So, fearing a mutiny or an insurrection, I stop at an undisclosed port in western Madagascar and trade the ark’s desalinization unit for an Apple iPad with an M2 chip.

Everyone one board is happy, until we dip below the Tropic of Capricorn and satellite service is impossible.

Unbeknownst to me my youngest grandchild, a girl, age 5, has brought two animals abord the ark. The animals, a male and a female, copulate as animals are wont to do. Soon a raft of small furry animals are running roughshod over the ark, climbing the masts, getting into the chicken feed etc. etc.

Then pure chaos, Rough seas. Lack of satellite service, hence direction. Panic.

God is suddenly a necessity. Then two gods, but no more than two…

We finally reach The Netherlands, hungry and thirsty but happy to be alive. Ashore, we find a world that has changed mightily into binary and non-binary clumps.

The oldest child is now 18 and the youngest is now 8, having reached puberty. I tried my best to home-school them, but failed.

In retrospect we had one god too many.

News item from The Irish Herald, March 2023 issue. Photo by the author, all rights reserved.