Water Rights

Ah, welcome to Adam’s place,
Adam-ondi-Ahman, not
The third stake in Missouri,

The Don’t Intrude Ranch, southwest
Of there, mostly cactus scrub,
Patch of nothing much swirling

With Gadianton robbers,
Or Jaredite descendants,
Or polygamist preppers,

The once and future Eden
Hideaway for Vegas gangs
Who started as bootleggers,

The Little Jewish Navy,
And grew into casinos
With philanthropic sidelines,

Running cattle and hunting
Mountain lions for trophies,
Trailing the usual tail

Of hangers-on, high-rollers,
Hookers, and celebrities,
Cars full of corpses to plant.

See? Adam’s place, to the T,
Everything fallen humans
Can’t resist lying about—

Supernatural beings,
Buried bodies and treasure,
Banditry, heroism,

Lost tribes, murderous villains,
Sexual misadventures,
All out there somewhere, out there

Somewhere scruffy, near worthless
But mysterious, real land
Reinvented, made human.