Saul Bass Redesigns the First Man
I want to make beautiful things, even if nobody cares.
To make, you first have
to create materials. Re: man, we know
the rib removed. But, before — ?
Forget ash to ash, dust
&c.
Stick a floating rib (i.e. thoracic
11–12, y’know — “Edenic”) in a glass
of water with the promise
it’ll grow
roots like leek or fur
like chia. The joke’s Crusoe
astride the bone or Jim & Huck paddling
rustic as a ballpoint pen will go.
— Nn-o.
(That’s not a plank
in your peeper!) —
It’s a hollow; cue: running
faucet, a Pabst-crack opening
into seraphic
choir. (Risk Handel’s?
A perfect major? root, third, & fifth?) With aesthetics,
like a bad comb-
over, you don’t
need a mirror to know what you are
missing. Now that you have this
thing, you’ve got to
feed, roof, & rock-
a-bye baby. You’re the big boss, head honch-
o, but watch out, foreman, Little Evie
& Adam were the first
organized union. (1-2-3-4 ... don’t give us pain in labor!)
So what’ll you give him in return?
Latin and genus?
Genius?
. . . Medicinal plants?
(I call this “Vladimir
Nabo-cough,” man.)
Or do we let him take for him-
self by fount,
fin, & medium — language. Though from this,
we know
creation is only
myth; destruction, narrative.
Source: Poetry (December 2013)