Adam's loins were mountains

by Robert E. Howard

Layout 2

Adam’s loins were mountains,
His rod a branchless pine;
Creation in his surging blood
Stung like the ocean brine.
The valleys rocked and trembled
To thunder of his frown,
He turned the rivers from their beds
And tore the mountains down.

He crumbled boulders in his hands
With grunt and wrench and heave,
His blood was fire along his veins—
He laid his hands on Eve.

Her breasts were domes of ivory,
Her legs were round and firm,
Her womb was such as might receive
Even such as Adam’s spurm.

Her hips were wide as mountains,
Her bosom white and deep,
And Adam felt a million years
Breaking from unborn sleep.

His fingers brushed her rosy cheeks
And touched her mystic eyes
And sought the fragrant forest of
The hair between her thighs.

He laid her on the green sward,
Her supple legs he spread;
The valley of the Euphrates
Was all of Adam’s bed.

The trees shook down their green leaves
Like rains of emerald coins;
The whole earth rocked and trembled to
The surging of his loins.

His rod was like an earthquake
That found her pulsing womb,
Above her like an avalanche
She felt his buttocks loom.

Oh, Adam was a giant,
Ah, Adam was a man!
Go out and view the fools today
Who boast his name and clan.