lilith, o queen of hell, I shall be your
bridegroom, though you reject me, resistant
as you are to be ruled over . . . my yoke,
though, as weightless as my lassitude deep.
and my devotion broad as lethe’s shores,
certain as your attention; eve would not
have nor hold me because that rib was not
mine, nor would I from her gullible hand
take of the apple, having glutted myself
on georgia peaches somewhere south and west
in kentucky watered with bourbon and
stumbling toward a more pagan heaven where
paradise was never denied us, nor
were we terrorized by angels and law.
David M Pitchford
24 Nov 2011