*for Barbara Brady
“Smile, You Miserable Bitch”
I say
to the Old N a s t y Witch
in The Cracked Mirrors Of Pain
Visible
On Her Rage Walk to Deliver
Furies Hooked
to The She-Devil’s Triangle through Her Blood Flowing Rivers….
and Smell Her N a s t y Hairy Bush….
“Smile, You Miserable Bitch!”
I Laugh
at The She-Beast
Trapped In a Tormented Past
(She Cannot Escape The Hate
She Fabricates,
so She Cries an Unbelievable Rape)
It’s a sickly conceived of Nasty Fantasy
Woven Twisted Together Distinctly
By Lies
and deeper Dark Denials in the Same Degree….
“Smile, You Miserable Bitch!’
I Mock
At The Forked Tongued Hag’s Burial
at Sea
where No One was There to pay Their Last Respects
But Me/Just Me/Yes, Me…..
“And Remembering How Miserly
and N a s t y
You were In Life to All Your Friends and Family
I Really find Quite Something….
Smile, You Miserable Bitch In Hell……
Now You Have Nothing.”
I’M NOT AFRAID OF THE DARK # 83
More Poetry from the Dark Side Series # 5
3 February 1999