Guest Poetry by Bridget Kelley-Lossada: Fruit of Sin

FRUIT OF SIN

I.

If Eve is to tolerate the reputation of first lady of The Fall then the apple cannot be the fruit of sin. Think about it. Genesis was penned about 3,500 years ago somewhere in the semi-arid but potentially Mediterranean region of the Middle East-- a place where olives, grapes, dates and pomegranates are common, but certainly not the crisp, clean autumn apple.

Apples are not evil. When you pull an apple from a tree (which is what Eve was supposed to have done) it is dull-hued and shy, not glossy like the apple most of us are familiar with as we stroll along the produce section of the market.

The apple is not sexy. Perhaps an apple pie can be sexy, but I don’t think Eve was lured to a tree of warm pies. Worst of all—the overripe apple shrivels on the branch. It is not attractive enough to cause the original sin that got us banned from the garden forever.

II.

If I am to experience pain and suffering in childbirth and the reputation of whore, for God’s sake, let it be with a sexy fruit. The pomegranate is sexy. For the pomegranate I would listen to the serpent. I would even call Adam over. I might even endure eternity outside the garden, and enjoy it.

Consider this: the slightly hard crimson skin is tantalizing as its ripening causes fissures to form, and from these vulva-like passages the juice of the seeds inside finds its way out making a rich, sticky mess.

Opening the fruit is like cracking open a geode full of rubies – it glitters at you. O, we are getting closer to the truth now. If I am Eve, I am walking over to this tree. I am thinking, what are these glistening little eyes shining at me? I am calling Adam over.