It seems some rabid fundamentalist
attempted to redecorate my trunk
by prying off the ambulating fish
that names the Beagle’s passenger. To junk
my gentle symbol was a zealot’s aim,
but unsuccess was his ambition’s lot.
He popped the back and modified the name,
and crawling “Arwin” was the word he got.

This creature newly made appears to haul
itself beyond the fingers of the sea.
What walked before is now impelled to crawl,
and intimates with its tenacity
adaptive evolution striving more
intensely than it ever did before.