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Stood pooled in porch light
Cut my shadow off with a dull knife
Whispered in its ear, then sent it off into the night
Set the trap for the mice, the rats
Whatever’s in the pipes
Corner of your eye, the edge of the white
That’s where I live, I’m set for life
“Here’s the thing about an apple: it sticks in the throat. It’s a package deal: lust and understanding. Immortality and death. Sweet pulp with cyanide seeds. It’s a bang on the head that births up whole sciences. A golden delicious discord, the kind of gift chucked into a wedding feast that leads to endless war. It’s the fruit that keeps the gods alive. The first, worst crime, but a fortunate windfall. Blessed be the time that apple taken was.“
Richard Powers | The Overstory