A new revision of a poem I wrote several months ago.  Not representative of my usual style, it was something I was told to do in a workshop - write a poem in heroic couplets from the point of view of a marginalised or fictional historical/mythological figure.  It was actually great fun, although it's a bit difficult not to go mad with rhyming ridiculous things.

Eve’s Wife

It is written in white and black,

In your holy little books, that

Adam and Eve were the only lovers,

And from them sprang all the others.

So they say ‘a man and a woman’s the natural

Way: God tells us – which of course makes it factual.’

As a result you don’t hear about me,

Though I certainly wasn’t the only

Woman who took simple pleasure

In that sex that they rightly call fairer;

And Eve was the one I wanted for life:

Eve was The One; I made her my wife.

Now before you get all soppy for Adam,

Know it was for show, Eve being his madam:

Adam and Eve had no love for each other

They just kept up the display for the governor

Of Eden, who created a matrimonial programme

To discourage those who attempted to cram

As much sex as they could into waking hours,

Without even courtship, or chocolates, or flowers.

My Eve and this Adam were examples

Of the value of nuptials,

So it had to appear to the world

As that old story of boy-meets-girl,

And I won’t lie, it was hard,

To be always on guard –

To pretend that I was merely Eve’s sister,

And only in private to chance to kiss her.

Still, it all would have been fine,

But one night after too much wine

I snogged Eve in the

Street and was seen by the governor,

Forcing me and dear Eve

To take our leave –

Which actually turned out to be good,

For we found a much nicer neighbourhood

And soon came to realise

That Eden’s no Paradise.

Sure, there was what’s known as the ‘Garden’,

But it was hardly an idyll or haven,

More a sorry excuse for a park,

And not a place to go after dark –

Full of dropouts and addicts,

And whores shagging like rabbits.

But to return to where this all began,

With the governer, the top man,

He decided something must be done

Now those bitches were on the run,

So he doctored some spin

To say that Eve committed great sin,

And certainly caused all the trouble we’re in.

This, he said, was the thing:

A woman can simply not be trusted:

All those hormones make her maladjusted.

This outlandish claim

Was made in Eve’s name

To perpetuate a feeling of shame

And a constant casting of blame,

But as you can see

From our side of the story,

There was no serpent, there was no Fall,

It was not the devil’s doing at all.

I’ve seen the way your books

Say that it happened, but look:

It’s just propaganda to slander

Those who don’t fit the agenda –

Which in itself is not a disaster,

Just tends to make things a little bit harder –

And after all these centuries

There’s still one thing I find really funny:

All that about Eve and the ‘forbidden

Fruit’, because, you know, back then

It certainly didn’t mean apples –

It was a slang name for female genitals.