Adam

I saw Adam from across the yard, the grassy

And men littered yard, he had a towel on.

It was draped along his waist, cotton candy 

To the leveled-eye man eyeing him from near.

It was a beckoning, he asked for me, 

Summoned me nearer and nearer. A pendulum

Clicking and clacking against thigh.

The sight of him, as if on The First Day, genesis 

In reverse, the bone of the body chewing 

The skin. The skin, worn, stretched. The body

Eating the body. Adam called me, he called me

Closer, chlorine slipping from the mouth,

Chlorine sweetly filling the mound of our air

We’ve created. Adam, the drum of the body,

Your body, was voluminous, is waning;

Is whispering, crawling back to the tunnel;

To the dark room I once witnessed and built 

With you. You, Adam, Adam, I’ve never

Smelt the bones of death so near before.

So under the nose, so eye-leveled — the man

Calling you. Lose the towel. I see you this close.

Even five yards across this burning, green lawn

With your flimsy off-white omniscient towel.