Eternal Life Syndrome – A Sputnik Poem

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Sputnik says:

“1
My dear Mutti is a sweet, sweet angel
she always makes me the greasiest pate,
of lovely fat liver, spread on white bread.
I can totally stuff myself with it all.

Over the years I have eaten
tons of bacon and pork, layers of fat,
fries, sausages, hamburgers and brains and eggs,
so I now weigh a total of 300 pounds.
But I do not die from it, don’t ever worry.
“The life expectancy is eternity.”

2
My Big Daddy is now 134 years old:
“Obesity is not a lifestyle disease.
It’s an appetite,” Big Daddy always says.
Big Daddy sometime jokes:
“When I have no more appetite on life
I will just walk out of the building as Elvis.
and travel to the secret island for
deranged fat celebrities.”

3
No diseases exist anymore:
Testicular cancer has ceased to exist,
breast cancer does not exist,
hepatitis, HIV, AIDS and
Syphilis and gonorrhea,
all of them have been extinguished
like negligible species from the defunct rainforests.

Dr. BiBob completely eradicated all diseases. Hurray! Hurray!
Now Dr. BiBob is an unemployed medical doctor, Nobel Prize winner
and a romantic street sweeper with nothing else to do.
“You have to take your own life now if you want to die,” says Dr. BiBoB
in an over-relaxed manner.

“Everything is healthy.
Nothing can kill you.
Obesity will not harm you.
It’s actually good to be fat,” says Dr. BiBoB,
the eternal street sweeper
of the ordinary pavements of our polluted cities.

4
The climate has gone fully berserk too. And it’s beautiful.
The clouds behave like viking raids
in our monastery of total wellness and vacation.

“Don’t worry,
everything will become a wonderland
of roasted pork and grill.
Now we only need
the last computer game:
Fucknight 2.0”.

5
Of course, the natural selection in the woods
tried to drag the human species to the biodynamic gallows.
The big wizard from Laskadaska was there too.
He wanted to swing an ax and raise a cross, muahaha, muahaha.
But in the heat of the selection he chose
to crucify the last human syndrome: the very wicket language.

Oops.”

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