I mean to go through life like I mean to live
The stories say that we aren't meant
To be happy and free
Engineering a means of surviving
Bending our wits in hopes of thriving

We will never be
We will never be
Shut it down
The evidence claims otherwise
Sealed the fate of the dying
Freedom is reminded
That no entity has the power

I mean to go through life like I mean to live
The stories say that we aren't meant
To be happy and free
Engineering a means of surviving
Bending our wits in hopes of thriving

Dominate your lives
Work work work
Against the man
I will fight for you
Who is worth living for?
You told me we were good
I believe in you
Do you believe in me?

I am
Eve.
It is my task
To sample the fruit,
To romance the serpent,
To
Fall.
It is my task
To corrupt.

I am
Eve.
It is my duty to be pure.
My burden
Is skin
Is shame
Is
Pleasure.
It is my charge
To be a symbol,
To be a statue--
Smooth, perfect marble
Cold and unmoldable.

But
My flesh
Gives
Under fingers.
My smoothness
Has heat.
Has breath.
Has
Blood.

I am
Eve.
It is my calling
To be a paradigm.
Still and quiet as a
Painting or mural
Which can be pointed to
And admired.
It is my role.
I am something
To aspire to.
Something to acquire.
Something to
Protect.

I am
Eve.
It is my destiny
To disappoint.
It is my fate
To fail.
It is my study
To ******.

I have been to trial
By power.
It is my crime
To burn the garden.
It is my obligation
To be
Deceived.

I am Eve.
And I am
Unprepared.

I killed a man once,
From his head.
I killed him slowly,
From his bed.

My name is...

He awoke,
With a start,
Clutching tight,
His aching heart.
In his ears,
He heard us sing,
Soft melodies,
Of dying.
He scraped the wall,
Until he bled.
Through the door,
He quickly fled.
We followed him,
In the shade,
In silence,
In wait we laid.

Our name is...

Through the town,
Babbling mad,
The man stumbled,
Truly sad.
We made him feel,
A pain so true,
Born from night,
And sorrows new.
We drove him down,
To the farming place,
Where he strangled them,
With wire-lace.
But then the lamb,
Came along,
Not so innocent,
But tall and strong.
"Speak thy name,"
The usurper spake,
And with his wave,
Our will did break.
"Before I silence thee,
And end thy game,
I ask once more.
What is your name?"

My name is...
Our name is...
My name is Legion,
For we are many.

The peace pipe that has
two sides -

zoom the monsoon clouds,
summertime-bizarre.

Choices,
pieces of the peace puzzle:

Biblical, them both.

Pasts alive in
binocular introspection.

Smoking the hashtag#, now:

A hundred colour
abominations around.

Comrade, policeman,

look, our
daughters go abducted.

The last rain is dying
and the heat soars again:

Wand-love or rod-fear:

It's a battle of the faithful
in a heathen heathen world.

*#hash's so-sixties.

Imagine,
Just for a moment,
That Eve had a daughter
Before the desert.
And,
Remaining pure,
She was left behind,
The sole tenant of that holy garden.
Retaining her creation-day innocence,
She is imprisoned
by her eternal perfection.
Naked, pure,
she is a ghost
haunting heaven.