I know I used to be
a homo habilis
in a previous life.
I constructed blades
from rocks
and meals from
carcasses.
I protected my cave
from predators
and created fire.
I spoke with grunts
and moans
and ate flesh raw.
I did these things
until I died.
Maybe from a leopard
or disease.
But I was born again
and grew into a man
who lives in a
house
with a yard
and two children.
A man who needs
to write
poems
about his previous life
as a caveman.