Whether it's familiar or not, focus on the bit in the middle as you read this sonnet:
Intelligent design is meant to be
The means by which a supernatural hand
Guides evolution to the life we see –
So everything is purposeful and planned.
This may explain the beauty of an eye
And how a nest is organised by ants,
But rather leaves us stranded high and dry
Explaining what a man keeps in his pants.
As men sought game to griddle on the fire –
Before they even thought of wearing threads –
They must have stridden through both thorn and briar
And ripped their soft and dangly parts to shreds.
If this is right, men now know who to blame:
That smart designer, smiling, is a dame.