Beloved Snake, perhaps my finest blueprint,
How can I not take pride in your design?
Your passage without hoof- or paw- or shoe-print
Revels in art’s and nature’s S-curve line.
No ears, no whiskers, fingers, legs or teeth,
No cries, complaints, nor curses from you start;
But silence shares your body in its sheath,
Full-functioning with no superfluous part.
Men try to emulate your forkéd tongue,
Their prideful piece dwarfed by your lordly length.
Two arms for blows or hugging loosely hung
Are mocked by Boa Constrictor’s single strength.
How dare men claim their image as my own,
With all those limbs and features sticking out?
You, Snake, with continuity of bone
Need but a spine to coil and cruise about.
Men fear the force of your hypnotic eyes,
Make myths to damn your being wise and deft.
You, Snake, not men, deserve my cosmic prize.
I’m glad you stayed in Eden when they left.