The Olive Tree

'Twas on creation's seventh day
when God was tired and had to play,
that She devised a jape so cruel
that even Satan had to drool.

Said Satan, "That's the lowest prank
You've made so far, and yet they'll thank
You for it, 'cause they think the light
Shines down from Your throne infinite."

And God said "It's their own damned fault.
I set fair rules but they revolt.
I've given them so much good stuff
Yet still they whine it's not enough.

I've planted only one sad shoot
And banned the use of its drab fruit:
Some oily flesh wrapped round a pit
And skin the tone of chicken shit."

"You know they'll eat them," Satan said,
"And then You'll lay that on my head!
They'll need no tempting to be bad,
To take Your knowledge-diet fad."

Now Satan was a wily snake.
His reputation was at stake:
A lying trickster's never one
To let some straight chick have the fun.

He curled himself about the root
And watched Eve in her birthday suit
Come wandering blithely to that tree
Of knowledge, and say "Hi Snakey!"

"Hello fair Eve," the snake replied
"I'm here to save your sweet backside.
God's playing nasty tricks on you
And Adam in Her human zoo.

Forbidden fruit from this dull plant,
Made by The Omni-cognisant
Is salty, greasy, tastes like sin.
It's just a joke to suck you in."

"Oh Coooool!" was Eve's inane reply,
"Hey Adam, this we gotta try!"
You see, although the snake was smart
He failed to grasp the human heart.

Her joke would work. Yes, God knew best.
She had to know they'd fail the test.
Perverse and wayward they would be.
Made in Her image, wild and free.

And to this day some people eat
These olives like they were some treat,
And God laughs when she should rebuke.
Excuse me now, I need to puke.

(Written for a message-board discussion on the merits of the olive.)