He keeps a swazzle in his mouth,
rage with a flourish, twist the words
if they don’t win over. That’s the way
to do it. If I’m a sharp-tongued woman,
I carved it on my teeth, biting back
bashings in favor of keep-love.
All day I’m punch-drunk, but at
night, the ceiling's dark stage
waits for us: clown-grimace
characters, a baby, a stick.
We kiss and dance, then
fight again. My puppets; I win.
1 Then the Lord cursed the serpent
to crawl on its belly, eat dirt.
And Adam was satisfied, but
felt a question start inside him.
2 The serpent said Revenge
and smiled, sliding by. Man
was learning the ways of God.
3 Later, God gave more laws,
marked more abominations:
snake, turtle, salamander,
mouse, weasel, mole.
4 Adam watched a hare,
tuck into the brush
of the forest to forage.
He thought of Eve, made
from dust. He considered
that when he looks for God,
he always looks up.