“VasectomyAfter the steaming bodies swept through the hungry streets of swollen cities; after the vast pink spawning of family poisoned the rivers and ravaged the prairies; after the gamble of latex and diaphragms and pills; I invoked the white robes, gleaming blades ready for blood, and, feeling the scourge of Increase and Multiply, made affirmation: Yes, deliver us from complicity. And after the precision of scalpels, I woke to a landscape of sunshine where the catbird mates for life and maps trace out no alibis—stepped into a morning of naked truth, where acts mean what they really are: the purity of loving for the sake of love.”

“Three Haiku, Two Tanka(Kyoto)CONFIDENCE (after Bashō) Clouds murmur darkly, it is a blinding habit— gazing at the moon. TIME OF JOY (after Buson) Spring means plum blossoms and spotless new kimonos for holiday whores. RENDEZVOUS (after Shiki) Once more as I wait for you, night and icy wind melt into cold rain. FOR SATORI In the spring of joy, when even the mud chuckles, my soul runs rabid, snaps at its own bleeding heels, and barks: “What is happiness?” SOMBER GIRL She never saw fire from heaven or hotly fought with God; but her eyes smolder for Hiroshima and the cold death of Buddha.”

“Darwin's ArkThe fact is, I know those ancestors floating through my sleep: an animal that breathed water, had a great swimming tail, an imperfect skull, undoubtedly hermaphrodite . . . I slide through all the oceans with these kin, salt water pulsing in my veins, and aeons follow me into the trees: a hairy, tailed quadruped, arboreal in its habits, scales slipping off my flanks . . . . I have sailed the ancients seas to come to the bones of Megatherium. . . . The thing I want to father most is the rarest, most difficult thing of all. Though knee-deep in these rivers of innocent blood, I want to be - a decent animal.”

“DAYS ONE THROUGH SIX, ETC.You keep on asking me that –“Which day was the hardest?”Blockheads! They were all hard –And of course, since I’m omnipotent,they were all easy.It was Chaos, to begin with. Can you imaginePrimeval Chaos? Of course you can’t.How long had it been swirling around out there?Forever.How long had I been there?Longer than that.It was a mess, that’s what it was. Chaos isRocky. Fuzzy. Slippery. Prickly.As scraggly and obstreperous as the endless behindof an infinite jackass. Shove on it anywhere,it gives, then slips in behind you,like smog, like lava, like slag.I’m telling you, chaos is – chaotic.You see what I was up against. Whocould make a world out of that muck?I could, that’s who – landfrom water, light from dark, and so on.It might seem like a piece of cakenow that it’s done, butback then, without a blueprint,without a set of instructions, without a committee,could you have created a firmament?Of course there were bugs in the process,grit in the gears, blips, bloopers –bringing forth grass and trees on Day Threeand not making sunlight until Day Four, that,I must say, wasn’t my best move.And making the animals and vegetables beforethere was any rain whatsoever – well,anyone can have a bad day.Even Adam, as it turned out, wasn’t such a greatidea – those shifty eyes, the alibis,blaming things on his wife – I mean,it set a bad example. How could heexpect that little toddler, Cain,to learn correct family valueswith a role model like him?And then there was the nasty squabbleOver the beasts and birds.OK, I admit I told Adamto name them, but – Platypus?Aardvark? Hippopotamus?Let me make one thing perfectly clear –he didn’t get that gibberish from Me.No, I don’t need a planet to fall on Me,I know something about subtext.He did it to irritate Me, just plainspite – and did I need the aggravation?Well, as you know, things went from badto worse, from begat to begat,father to son, the evil fruitof all that early bile. So nextthere was narcissism, then bigotry,then jealousy, rage, vengeance!And finally I realized, the spawn of Adamhad become exactly like – Me.No Deity with any self-respectwould tolerate that kindof competition, so what could I do?I killed them all, that’s what!Just as the Good Book says,I drowned man, woman, and child, likeso many cats. Oh, I saved a fewfor restocking, Noah and his crew,the best of the lot, I thought. Butnow you’re back to your old tricks again,just about due for another good ducking,or maybe a giant barbecue.And I’m warning you, if I have to do it again,there won’t be any survivors, not evena cockroach! Then,for the first time since it was PrimevalChaos, the world will be perfect –nobody in it but Me.”

“Last-Minute Message For a Time CapsuleI have to tell you this, whoever you are:that on one summer morning here, the oceanpounded in on tumbledown breakers,a south wind, bustling along the shore,whipped the froth into little rainbows,and a reckless gull swept down the beachas if to fly were everything it needed.I thought of your hovering saucers,looking for clues, and I wanted to write this down,so it wouldn't be lost forever - -that once upon a time we hadmeadows here, and astonishing things,swans and frogs and luna mothsand blue skies that could stagger your heart.We could have had them still,and welcomed you to earth, butwe also had the righteous oneswho worshipped the True Faith, and Holy War.When you go home to your shining galaxy,say that what you learnedfrom this dead and barren place isto beware the righteous ones.”

“How Evolution Came to Indiana In Indianapolis they drive five hundred miles and end up where they started: survival of the fittest. In the swamps of Auburn and Elkhart, in the jungles of South Bend, one-cylinder chain-driven runabouts fall to air-cooled V-4’s, a-speed gearboxes, 16-horse flat-twin midships engines— carcasses left behind by monobloc motors, electric starters, 3-speed gears, six cylinders, 2-chain drive, overhead cams, supercharged to 88 miles an hour in second gear, the age of Leviathan ... There is grandeur in this view of life, as endless forms most beautiful and wonderful are being evolved. And then the drying up, the panic, the monsters dying: Elcar, Cord, Auburn, Duesenberg, Stutz—somewhere out there, the chassis of Studebakers, Marmons, Lafayettes, Bendixes, all rusting in high-octane smog, ashes to ashes, they end up where they started.”

“Whatever we are, whatever we make of ourselves, is all we will ever have – and that, in its profound simplicity, is the meaning of life.”