Sunday, August 20, 2017

Eve


I’m listening to wet drops
of Eden beat against
my window.
I’m bored
even of apples and
I taste serpents
in my wine.
Mother Mary
is too good for me since
I’ve become a little sinful,
but I’ve learned
there are ways around
the Bible.
So I call to Eve.
The woman who
spread open sex—did she
masturbate?
Her punishment for boredom
was pain during childbirth
but now we have C-sections
and multiple orgasms and
if she were here now
with me, she would
skinny-dip, smoke cigars,
get a Ph.D.
I want her bones;
at least a charm to hang
around my neck.
It’s raining drops of Eden
over and over.
The same water that ran
out of Eden and into
Euphrates seeps into
the ground—a mothering
earth.  And I’m
biding time,
waiting for
the apocalypse
or a leak in the ceiling.
 
 
-Donna Dallas

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