Leaving a lot to be filled in, it took
Less space than a person ought. The garden floor
Was filled with hippopotamus and mice,
With rhododendrons and Rhode Island Reds—
The irony of which is clear, even to me—
So maybe it was good that it was spare.
He did okay without it, anyway;
And she built quite a suite of space around it:
Organs to make the windpipe sound, a gut
Deep enough for a cello; and her loins—
Well, he needed no instruction as to those,
Which seemed a little strange, when he reflected.
It served, the rib did. In his view it made
The Venus de Milo look like cottage cheese.
They had no seasons, so there was no fall.
They made a paradise and called it peace.
And Adam never wished he had a dog,
Not more than once or twice. And so did she.
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