Adam’s Whale

All our false incarnates
all our death tolls
limber atrophistics of jejeune
all the blood we never spilled
in the red raged anger Christ declaimed
we are upstaged by our own vicissitudes
the woeful undulations of the waves
which breach like whales
locked outside of better selves
like angels, Adams, Seths
forever knocking on the heavenly doors
of whispered childhood manifests.