When judgment must be passed in this worldLet the grand prosecutor lay eight charges:One, for creating poems from stolen conversation, claiming great artists steal;One, for taking you down, to a place near the river, and engaging in consensual acts; One, for evaluating societies while under the influence of her own culture;One, for smoting, with pre-meditation, eight innocent mosquitoes;One, for smoking, in the early morning rain, brisket and rye;One, for taking you disappearing through the smoke rings of your mind. But these seven charges were negated;We the jury, who are eight, gave a positive charge. If you have desires and wants on this earthLet eight want ads be written:One, for a non-human national anthem singer;One, for a cubist watermelon sculptor; One, for a dance prophetess, at the seashore, to shake her tambourine.One, for a percentage miner, to supply sports teams, required to give 200%.One, for the better behaved moral animals of our nature;One, for an actor to play King Louis XIV, with long sword, silk stockings, and a wig; One, for a Victorian maid in black stockings; if canoe misbehaves, to paddle the canoe.Your debutante knows what we need,But we eight know what we want. If you want to laugh in this serious worldLet eight punchlines be delivered:One, Just bring me some soft-boiled eggs! One, Thank you for flying Lufthansa! One, That’s the way the Pope likes it! One, Ours is the best!One, Sometimes they don’t give! One, Bubby says we’re saving it for the shiva! One, Fine, I’ll sit with her going back from your funeral, but it will ruin my whole day!But seven well-timed punchlines are not by themselves enough; we eight have to be good for a laugh. If you seek fellow Olympians, true north seekers, shanti-shantiansOur earthly Olympus will need a party of eight sapiens:One, a Pre-Civil War abolitionist’s daughter, willing to cross the Mason-Dixon line; One, a science fiction Galileo, with telephoto vision, high on still life;One, Shakti, dancing barefoot meditation;One, Dionysus, Admiral of scotch and ritual madness;One, Comedy King, who changed all the bulbs on Manitoba hydro Christmas trees;One, tambourine Miriam, dance revolution the world from the inside out; One, Rumi’s lineal descendant, a bartender of paradise, high on water. But eight Homo Deus are not enough;We’re eight billion, God’s one, Universe infinite.