From Dust to Dust


by Nicholas Biel

 
 	On the third day I was dust, ordinary common dust  like you 
	see on a country road in a dry spell, nothing expected of me, 
	me expecting nothing neither.
 
 	On the sixth day he comes along and blows. "In my own image 
	too", he says, like he was doing me a favor.
 
 	Sometimes I think if he'd waited a million years by then I'd 
	been tired maybe being dust but after only two, three days, 
	what can you expect?  I wasn't used to being dust and he goes 
	and makes me into Man.
 
 	He could see right away from the expression on my face I 
	didn't like it so he's going to butter me up. He puts me in 
	this garden only I don't butter.
 
 	He brings me all the animals I should give them names   What 
	do I know of names?  "Call it something,"  he says, "anything 
	you want," so I make names up: lion, tiger, elephant, giraffe. 
	Crazy, but that's what he wants.
 
 	I'm naming animals since 5 AM, in the evening I'm tired I go 
	to bed early, in the morning I wake up,  there she is sitting 
	by a pool of water admiring herself.
 
 	"Hello, Adam," she says, "I'm your mate, I'm Eve."   "Pleased 
	to meet you,"  I tell her and we shake hands.
 
 	Actually I'm not pleased from time immemorial nothing, now 
	rush, rush, rush; two days ago I'm dust, yesterday all day 
	I'm naming animals, today I got a mate already.
 
 	Also I didn't like the way she looked at me or at herself in 
	the water.
 
 	Well, you know what happened,  I don't have to tell you, there 
	were all those fruit trees   she took a bite, I took a bite, 
	the snake took a bite and quick like a flash, out of the 
	garden.
 
 	Now I'm not complaining; After all, it's his garden, he 
	doesn't want anbody eating his apples, that's his business.
 
 	What irritates me is the nerve of the guy.
 
 	I didn't ask him to make me even dust; he could have left me 
	nothing like I was before and such a fuss for one lousy 
	little apple not even ripe (there wasn't much time from 
	Creation, it was still Spring), I didn't ask for Cain, for 
	Abel, I didn't ask for nothing, but anything goes wrong, 
	who's to blame?...Sodom, Gomorrah, Babel, Ararat... me or my 
	kids catch it,....fire, flood, pillar of salt. "Be patient," 
	Eve said, "a little understanding.  Look, he made it was his 
	idea, it breaks down, so he'll fix it."
 
 	But I told him one day.  "You're in too much of a hurry. In 
	six days you make everything there is,  you expect it to run 
	smoothly?  Something's always going to happen.  If you'd a 
	thought first, conceived a plan, consulted a specialist,  you 
	wouldn't have so much trouble all the time."
 
 	But you can't tell him nothing.  He knows it all.
 
 	Like I say, he means well but he's a meddler and he's 
	careless. He could have made that woman so she wouldn't bite 
	no apple.
 
 	All right, all right, so what's done is done, but all the 
	same, he should have known better, or at least he could have 
	blown on other dust.






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