Three Poems by Michelene Wandor

Eve to Lilith

don't get me wrong - I have nothing against first wives
ok, so you laid him
first; that's merely
a fact of life
so you got to know
all his little habits, like
picking his nose
when he reads in bed
but he didn't do that with you?

I see
I'm not jealous. I don't
believe in jealousy, and what I don't belive in
doesn't hurt me. But tell me
honestly, what did you do to the poor man?
He's a nervous wreck.
He can't stand up to his boss, he has
pains in his side all the time -
I mean, something must have happened
to leave a man
so scarred.
He told me how beautiful you were.
The dark, dramatic type.
Usually he doesn't talk about you
but when we - well, long ago -
when - at night -
we - in the dark, always -
he used to call your name
at a certain moment
It's none of my business but you must have done something very special
to make a man remember you so

Lilith to Eve

I merely said 'no'.
That's when he gave me
his attention
for the first time

Lilith's Dance

Lilith sins?
Lilith sings
Lilith speaks many a cross word
Lilith has an anger like love
like a procession of pillars
of fire
Lilith has the delight
of a woman scorned
he modelled me
I was his clay thing
into me he breathed life
I became his golem
I went forth and I destroyed
havoc my middle name
I am the dybbuk of delight
I slip into the souls
of those who need me
perhaps you breathed
just a little
too much life, a sniffle too long
but once tasting the air
I would not be still, not
be silent, not return
to my feet of clay
I will not gather dust
I do not cower beneath cobwebs
I do not fear the hot streets

I walk in the middle
of the pavement
I do not hug the shade
of cowardly buildings
I do not stay in my ghetto
but I strut and stride
into the ghetto

of men I interrupt
the invisible universal
which denies men their souls
and women their being
I do not creep
I do not crawl

see I am proud
I have taken the cloth
from my mirror
of mourning
for your birthday
(if gods have birthdays)
I shall give you
a mirror


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