is doing her usual for comic relief.
see why she should get on the boat, etc.,
etc., while life as we know it hangs by a thread.
has had one or two great deadpan lines:
Who told you (this was back at the start—
of the tautology had just snapped shut) Who
told you you were naked? The world
was so new
that death hadn’t been till this minute
required. What makes you think (the
withers under their feet) we were told?
The woman’s disobedience is good for
as also for restoring plot to human
scale: three hundred cubits by fifty
What’s that in inches exactly? Whereas
all obstinate wife is common coin.
the beginning was nothing and then a flaw
in the nothing, a sort of mistake that amplified, the
mistranscribed (it takes such discipline
to keep the prospect clean) and now the lion
the beetle rolls its ball of dung, and Noah
with no more than a primitive double-
is supposed to make it right.
We find the Creator in an awkward bind.
to oblivion? Think again. The housewife
at her laundry tub has got a better grip.
be why we’ve tried to find her laughable,
she’s such an unhappy reminder of what
costs. Ask the boy who cannot, though
God know’s he’s tried, he swears
of melting soap will be his last, who cannot
turn the water off when once he’s turned it on.
are raw. His body seems like filth to him.
Who told you (the pharmacopoeia has
the malady’s still the same) Who told you
you were food for worms?
makes you think (the furrow, the fruit)
I had to be told?
— Linda Gregerson