by Catharine Brankamp
the second woman was assembled with
previously owned parts without warranty
the first – like Adam – was molded from earth
more solid than ribs
harder than bricks for cities
she did not bow her head or curtesy
instead ran straight at the volcano
Adam trailing behind – is this a good idea?
She pressed him back into the ground
sharing how the earth sways
the banging surf spume
the gulls cry encouragement
the hard shore washed over and over
yes, yes!
pious men of the church
unable to tolerate a happy ancestor
deleted this first wife, as is so often the case
promoted a new trophy wife
this time from ribs ripped from Adam himself
Love is pain
God was quoted: love this one, a better
but lesser version of you.
to serve up transgressions – Eve’s version
yet, yet, those first days in the fresh world
the surf, the cries, the trembling earth
sent a collective memory vibrating in space
this afternoon, a woman lifts her face
drawn to the edge of the shore
the crashing sea spume, lapping waves
why do gulls cry yes, yes?