"We come from the Earth and to the Earth we must return..."
In this phrase I found solace and comfort
Until my stilettos sunk into the ground and I remembered

I am only made from Adam's rib

So I cursed the Earth
and ground my heels into the dirt

Man returns to the Earth and I
I am made from a rib...

Suspended in the cavity around the
heart of man
Flittering like a restless bird who
cannot find her perch

Frowning as I fly into the sky which I
do not know and and where I
do not belong

While man builds airplanes to chase after
me
While man hunts the pheasant for
sport

I want to die and return to the Earth
I want broccoli to grow where I lay
and be left uneaten to
flower

I will no longer be the bony protector
of the heart of a man
and maybe in casting away my birthright

I may return to the Earth, once again.

Your spine is a holy place
From the tip of your neck, to the cradle in your pelvis, it is baptized in your waters
Starting with cervical, a lucky number of seven sections
The number of days it took god to create the earth
Greek mythology tells me, Cer is the personification of a violent death
Vic means to substitute,
Therefore this section substitutes itself for your violent death
Holding up an unlucky number 13
Pounds.
Of skull, and flesh and
Blood. Which it facilitates the flow of
It has hollowed itself out for nerves
Hollowed itself out so that you may feel
Everything.

Thoracic.
A dozen protective pieces,like the disciples foundation
Hammered in by thor himself
God of the sky
The horizon within dotted by a heart, some lungs,
Spleen, stomach, diaphragm
Stars in your very own galaxy

Lumbar
Five little graces
Luminary
Holding enough weight so
that the sun could settle down
right between your hip bones
root within your nerves
Apollo has come to visit
Showing you just how much holy light you can carry

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.