The Agriculture of Evil (Psalm 1)

The psalmist knew the scents of ancient grasses,
the wild flower on a sudden leaf.

The psalmist saw the harvest baskets,
saw the chaff return to seed.

Dark, dark was our religion,
a faith tossed high into the air, then falling towards the earth, where it spilled out into the first song.

He carved his song from forgotten husks,
with words found in a harvest basket.

Sturdy words like happy, meaning The Lord.
Fragile words like insolent, meaning The Evil.

For grammar, he used the women’s bodies,
tawny limbs and eyes the colors of musk

He sang of separation, not of people but in nature,
happy is the man who has not followed the counsel of the wicked
...he is like a tree planted beside streams of water.



This poem originally appeared as The agriculture of evil (Psalm 1) - PresenTense Issue 6 (2008) COPYRIGHT ANITA SUSAN BRENNER SEPTEMBER 1, 2008.

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