The Day After Eden

Hit to kill: punch, kick and grapple:
consequence of that damned apple –
teaches that the light can blight;
what else is left to do but fight? –

what else, when everything we face
completely lacks the saving grace
of one unquestioned mind, which now
has fractured into question?: how

on Earth can we begin to claim
the sense embodied? Heaven’s name
is nothing but syllabic stew –
a bad joke stand-in for the true –

forgotten in the heart remain
dim vestiges of that lost strain
of melody which we once sang –
or thought we did. What awful clang

beats, clamors to possess the ear?
Put up your fists and swing at fear –
but you’re too spent. Here is the cry:
the moment you are born, you die.


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