Sunday, February 01, 2009

Needing a New Myth

Painting by Jan Gossaert, c. 1520


THE GENESIS STRAIN
—Virginia Hamilton Adair

Not sure how I got there,
But a perfect location: smogless,
Free food & 4 unpolluted rivers.

The man I took to at once—
Our bare bodies made us forget
Our parents (if we ever had any).

Adam was given a desk job, naming
Species; I typed the name tags,
Kept the files, fixed coffee, dusted,

Found the best plants for food, picked
Perma-press leaves for rainshawls
& little aprons to keep off gnats.

One super-tree I couldn't believe.
Too good to be true! But try it,
Our friendly next-door serpent said.

That night I served Adam Wisdom
Thermidor made from the super-fruit,
& we smoked the leaves, & WOW!

Adam agreed that was a great
Day in the garden. We felt young
& wise—really on top of it all.

What happened next is beyond me:
Our landlord beating on the door,
Asking these weird questions,

Pointing out clauses in the lease:
No picking fruit from THAT tree;
No getting smart ideas.

He began to issue us clothing
(Dead skins) from the company store.
We were already in debt, he told us.

Nothing we'd done was right,
In HIS eyes. Adam chickened, whined,
"Get off my back. It was all Eve."

After that, hell broke loose.
You should have heard the curses.
Not even Adam had executive clemency.

The snake was sure I'd ratted on him
& bit me. Adam stomped him. Now his kids
Can't play with our kids any more.

We were evicted from Eden Gardens.
Those goons with the flamethrower!
You better believe we went quietly.

Adam found ranching a real drag
Before slaves or tractors; got his kicks
Gunning down animals and neighbors.

Our boys are just like him, itching
To kill each other, & the girls like me
—brainwashed pushovers & finks.

How did I get here?—Via millennia,
Freezing my brains with our meatballs;
Vacuuming my soul with the wall-to-wall.

Tomorrow we run out of air and water.
Holy earth, you need the Maytag
More than our towels do. & A NEW MYTH.

__________________

—Medusa