By J. Allyn Rosser
I. First Evidence of Adam’s Unworthiness
Sweetie? Kitten? These green grapes here
aren’t quite as sweet, but they’re seedless,
and they don’t stain!
II. He Thinks a Company-Owned Split-Level in Topeka Is Enough
I think God’s way cool to give us this place
and if we just do our bit, you know,
without questioning the system,
the company’s policies and holdings,
we can stay here as long as we express
thanks and don’t expect too much.
You want me to move up, get better press;
you’d like to have a vote and go to college,
and I admire that enterprising spunk in you,
I really do. But remember how Angel
put it last week at the picnic: “Knowledge
is its own prerequisite.” It’s a dangerous perk.
I say we chill, give the future some slack,
wait ’n see, try to swing with the thing.
Lie down, my love. I’ll rub your back.
III. Eve Thinks About It
“Talking snakes make better sense in spit.
The one I met said God had made my heart
less kind than curious, my mind insatiate;
docility could not quite survive in it.
Since then, Adam’s words fall flat.
He’d have me lose what mind I had in mind.
This apple stands for what I think of that.”
Then, her arms uncoiling from behind,
and reaching with that cocky grin, she bit.
IV: And Packs Her Bags
Honestly, this blather of how blest
we were to sleep with only rest in mind:
to love without the thrill of breast
or nether part to gasp at, grasp in hand;
undress with tremble-free unwitness;
to hit the smarmy-bowered, rose-strewn sack
as if peace were the be-all of our end.
Some clueless biographer will speak
with rote regret of our need to explore:
Blest pair! and O, yet happiest if ye seek
No happier state, and know to know no more . . .
Everyone’ll eat it up, some pompous geek
rubbing chaste superlatives like cricket legs
till real life’s chirped away, and I’m a whore
because you want me. Hon, there’s better sex
out there with men who aren’t duty-blind
to curves, who’d give their precious intellects
(not just a rib) to have me in their daily grind.
Would you give up a kidney, or the next
best thing after heart, if it came down to it:
for once a real piece of your mind?
I strongly doubt you ever would, but look:
call me if you get around to it.
My number’s in the book.