Creation
In the beginning
in a field
of pompom-flowered
yellow hosannas
(now extinct),
wearing a cotton cowl
encrusted with
one-hundred-and-one carat
gold polka dots,
under loud jazzy
copper-blue skies,
God worked on animals.
Carefully,
so no one'd see,
holding His breath,
hands clenched,
eyes tightly shut,
and swaying back and forth,
He sang out
like a crazy cantor:
"Geese! Geese!
Sheep! Sheep!
Pigs! Pigs!"--and
there they were:
geese; sheep; and pigs.
For making Adam,
God put on
a bat-winged
black burnoose,
flattering folds,
like half-incinerated paper--
a sign of all the prose
(and poetry)
destined to burst
burning from man:
the Word; the Law; the Book.
But that was long ago;
now there is barely
a faint whiff
of waxy, hairless, holy legs
well on their way
to better universes,
where clothes--
and words--
will not be needed.