Species instructor

I’m a species instructor, I am,

From larvae to lobster to a tiny-winy lamb,

When a thing is born I tell them how to be,

Whether in the forest or under the sea.

What I tell them all is eat and mate,

Other stuff is gravy on the side of the plate.

I find they tend to listen quite well,

Because they’re young and they can’t tell,

If I’m full of hot air or much worse,

And if listening to me is more like a curse.

Some fish for example, I instructed to fly,

They spent all their energy jumping quite high.

After a while they all figured out,

They had been had, silly little trout.

I told some bunnies they should eat meat,

Let them loose and took the best seat.

I’ve never ever seen a squirrel move so fast,

As, on its favorite branch, it got harassed,

By a white fur ball, biting its tail.

This, too, was trumped by that one snail,

I told should find a house in a skull,

Which led to a confused laughing gull,

Who woke up with slime on its feathers of the face,

And a disappointed snail savagely on its case.

Some say it’s mean, and I should stop,

Ah, who cares, they’ll never be on top.