Always Eve’s idea
To give ear to the long one
In the interests of equity
Ecological democracy
Give pleasure a chance
Reconnaissance, not romance
Man retains enjoyment
Yet perfect, pleasing, God-sent
Husband, home, employment
Become vaguely insufficient
It’s because she gathers
Novelty, her search-image
It’s supposed to serve her
The urge to collect
Into her arms the lovely, fallen
Entire orchard of paradise
And lose herself in the giving and receiving
But again she’s coming to
With its hard tongue inside her
Eyes open under thick scales
Slip-squeezing muscular
Air only a prayer away but
Dusky, half-forgotten…
Squirm out of cold coils
Back to the warm, honest soil
Of birth and rebirth
The cinnamon-scent of earth
Listening for holy footsteps
Hearing murmuring of wasps
Chasing nectar-dripping skin
And so it begins
Anew
Beside her in the furnace
Gold calf forming, reliquefying
She drinks in each burning breath
Long, deep, uniform
Sweating out the venom
Thinking of eternal love
And on the third day she rises
Sloughs the grey, blistered skin
One long, untidy tangle
Walks upright again.
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