Meet Evo and Eva

[I’m doing a bit of mythologising here. It’s about Evolution, as individuals, as a species, as universe. From we to I, from I to we. From we to he and she. Outwards to inwards to outwards. From then to here, here to then. Thus our many skins, costumes, masks, swarming with beings. Thus, together, we are in the process of becoming. So, meet Evo and Eva, double-sexed, protean, You-Are-It incarnation of Evolution, most recent of our many masks. The painting above the two poems is from Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights. There is a jump-cut of a few million years between the first and second poem.]

Evo & Eva. A Short Theodicy

The trouble all started
when Evo thought
he’d screw a mirror
onto the shoulders
of an ape. Nice idea.

A step up
from working out
how to pile up rocks
for the next time
zoo visitors come
to stare and snigger.

Reflecting himself
in his fairground mind,
now Evo as ape
knew he was more
than rock or ape.

Subtle new feelings
rippled through him
in unexpected cataracts
demanding more
than gesture and grunt.

Evo let the Word de-
scend like a flaming
dove through long chains
of untried synapses.

And the Word was
an ephemeral hand,
condensed gesture,
the collective poetry
of desire, fear, dream
here/there, now/then,
a singing body
exuberant, depressed,
dying.

The Word became a tree,
a rib, some convenient
mud. Evo wanted
an Eve to be
his other, mother,
daughter, sister, self.

And so it was.

Then like a snake
he snuck up
on himself
pretending
to be an apple, Eva,
divine command
crying out
for a bit
of holy
disobedience.

What bliss:
both human love
and eternal banishment
from himself
just for the fun
of seeking
himself again
in otherness
and creating
all the heights
and horrors
of human history
along the way.

Mind you Eva
had a slightly
different perspective.

Herstory. But that’s
another story.

[Jump-cut forward a few million years.]

Now & then, if it’s quick

Eva Kwong-Gonzalez wakes [Finnegan!]
To the beeping of her smartphone.
Yawns, stretches, rubs her eyes,
Checks if Evo’s still sleeping.

Eva grabs her phone on the way
To the bathroom, scrolls thru
A few emails, messages, tweets
Sitting on the warmed toilet seat.

She washes her face with dead
Water, combs, deodorises, TV
In the background giving off news,
Time updates every few minutes.

Eva gulps down a quick coffee,
Shoves QuickOats into the microwave.
The electric garage door emits
Her shiny Toyota into the fast lane.

Is that a bank of storm clouds
Thru the tinted window? At
The station she’s lucky to get
A spot, then a seat on the train.

A few Facebook likes on her laptop
Before she catches up with
The next part of Game of Thrones.
In her building they’ve changed

The elevator musak. Check more
Emails, stored messages, move
Data from nowhere to nowhere,
Hours pass thru her like empty dreams.

Under the fluorescent flicker aircon
Hums, the faint smell of aldehyde.
After a sandwich, coffee, yogurt,
A quick game of table tennis.

More calls, more swivelling before
The screen. As evening rain pelts
The glass towers, Eva hurries home.
Evo’s bought Thai takeaway, then

A video game with the kids, a red
Or two with Game of Thrones.
A few more emails on the phone.
Lights out. Exhausted, Eva’s willing

Enough if it’s quick.

~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on January 6, 2018.