THE GS 11 or WHY I BECAME AN ATHEIST 
Consider, dear friends, isn't it odd 
k GS 11*s and all of them god 
There's the God of the Sea and the God from Sand 
The God of green Kure, and the one from the southland 
Gods, gods, everywhere, sometimes I really think 
All these Holy gods will drive me to the brink 
The God on Kure is the Lord of Creation 
(When not more involved with rat gestation) 
He treats all his co-workers with great benevolence 
(With one exception I know, some rather crummy tents) 
His eye is unerring, his gun is bloody 
(He sees more passerines than anybody) 
On the volleyball court, he has many a rooter 
As he bats balls back from the back of a scooter 
What T s that you say, Maryanna, there's word from heaven 
That I've been converted to a GS 7 
The God of the Sea (a cow college gent) 
Has really a remarkable ornithological bent 
His eyesight is unparalleled (watch it, no smiles) 
He sees birds at up to five miles 
His mind is acute, as sharp as a tack 
(For those 6 hours he T s out of the rack) 
Well, so much for that, I'm well and alive 
I 11 take the next bunk Larry, since I’m a GS 5 
The God of the Southlands is a remarkable fellow 
A cast iron stomach, and a stentorian bellow 
(Bay after day the air is rent) 
(With uninhibited shouts of "incompetent”) 
Like Gods of Old, he is polymorphic 
On any given day he is white and euphoric 
But put him on board and in but half an hour 
Our God T s visage becomes quite green and sour 
My God, what worse could happen to me 
Huber 1 s a 5 and I T m but a GS 3 
The God on Sand is really all right 
(But someone has told me, he's in love with a mite) 
He has three new species, his spirits were high 
Until he discovered they were but a speck in his eye 
His temerity, assurance, make other God's quale 
He’s the first entomologist to describe a fluke from a whale 
And I’m terribly worried, I'm awfully skeered 
That he’ll describe Olfersia from Ken Amerman’s beard 
All right fellows, enough is enough and fun is fun 
But I’ve never even heard of a GS minus one. 
Roger Clapp 
