after Bosch’s The Earthly Delights’ left panel
a curve of them into sky then to nothing, like smoke—
the mundane become the curious, the wink
that is animals evolving from water to land.
it is the grinning armadillo that’s expected, the fountain
as a gushing pink uterus with its dark tree hollow
where an owl stately perches, not Eve staring
down, her god’s eyes meeting our own, Adam
looking up at his god. Eve’s pubic hair runs golden, invisible,
gathered at the tip of her cunt like a hint or an invitation.
she doesn’t reach for god, instead allows him to grasp her arm
like so many have allowed themselves to be grasped. the cat
with a turtle in its mouth. the bulbous headed seal.
what can be made of these fruitless green trees? what
did the lead bird in the flock know before it took flight,
                                      leading our eyes off the canvas?