the Symposium retold

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Aristophanes, he was mistaken.
Our other halves are not
our lovers, slicing not men from women
as so we once had thought.
Let’s correct the wrongs of past proceedings
with a careful reading.
Pray tell, Muse, the tale of Plato’s Lovers
unbeknownst to mothers:
There gathered every creature of the whole—
from elephant to mole—
a symposium on the forest floor
became an ugly war.
Against savagery and machinery,
tore atom from itself,
and with it stole in a frenzied hurry
a piece of human wealth.
Divided anima from animal,
broke ‘part the heart and soul,
traded in our bite and bark for tool and tongue:
the struggle lost and won.
Now, logos reigns divine upon its throne.
Though, still we sense the loss.
The Cry of Nature’s shamed and overthrown—
but, oh, how much it cost.