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I'm Not Afraid of The Dark

Parochial School Girls

*FOR DEBBI KEMPTON-SMITH BARBARA BRADY AND JUNE BRIDGERS

PART 1,
“GOOD LITTLE CATHOLIC GIRLS DON’T DIE!”

OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN
HALLOWED BE THY NAME
FOR HEAVEN KNOWS
WE’VE MADE
A RIGHTEOUS STINK
OF THINGS DOWN HERE
AND
I’VE BEEN SUCH A BAD GIRL….
I’VE BEEN SUCH A BAD GIRL!

HAVE I MISSED SOMETHING?
HAS LIFE CHEATED ME FROM LIVING?
I DON’T THINK SO.
HOW COULD I COMPLAIN?
DON’T I GET WHAT I ASK FOR?

I DON’T THINK SO.

DON’T I?
DON’T I THINK?

I DON’T THINK SO.

I’VE BEEN SUCH A BAD GIRL……DADDY!
I HAVE BEEN SO WICKED!
ALONE. ON MY OWN. IN DOWNTOWN HELL.


WHERE THE DEMONS MEET
HOOF TO HOOF
HORN TO HORN
BOOT TO BOOT
FEET TO TEETH/ SLASH. BASH.
TAKING FORM/GRIP. STRIP.
HOLY GHOSTIES/MARTYR TOASTIES
AND IN THE PUREST LOVE IN VAIN!
IT WAS NOT MY SAN FRANCISCO TREAT!
I HAD NEVER DEALT THAT WAY (NOT IN CALIFORNIA HEAT
NOT MY NYC MEAT!)
ALONE. ON MY OWN. IN DOWNTOWN HELL.

I DON’T THINK I FEEL SO WELL….


FOR MY APPETITE HAS BEEN
WHETTED/UNFETTERED

SOMETHING WITHIN

NOW TAKES SHAPE

SHUDDERING AND SHINING

AND SHUDDERING

SUCH SHINING FILTHING AND GRIMING
S L I T H E R I N G. . . . .
AND
S L I M I N G. . . . .
I WAS ON MY KNEES!

THINKING “GEE. AM I EVER HAVING……FUN.’

I GET TO SMASH THROUGH
THE FLOOR

WITH A BONE SHATTERING HELLO,

PROSTRATE MYSELF BEFORE INIQUITY

AND STARE DEATH IN THE FACE. (YAWN!)
WHAT A BRAVE LITTLE BITCH
I AM!
ONCE AGAIN

SAVING THE WORLD
THE TROUBLE

BY KEEPING IT FOR MYSELF.

*

HOLY FATHER IN HEAVEN,

I AM YOUR SLAVEGIRL.

BIND ME WITH YOUR HEAVENLY CHAINS OF LIGHT

SO THAT I MAY BE

A TIGHT LITTLE ORAL FIXATION


HELL-BENT ON BECOMING

AN UPTIGHT CUNT FROM THE

MEADOWS AND ACRES

OF THE LOW-RENT DISTRICTS
NOT
TO BE CONFUSED WITH THE RED-LIGHT DISTRICTS
SOON TO BE RECONCILED WITH
WITH THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
WHERE I SHALL MARCH RIGHT UP TONIGHT
AND SCREAM:
“THE MASSES ARE ASSES!”
“THE MASSES ARE ASSES !”

WHICH SHALL BEGIN AND END
MY POLITICAL CAREER
IN STREAKING FLAMES
OF MUCH CELEBRATED CELEBRITY SUICIDE
THE FASHIONABLE WAY TO DIE
MY LOVE

THE TRENDY WAY TO DIE

(I WANNA BE A CAVE GIRL 1 2 3…
AND YOU CAN BE MY DINOSAUR, YOU ELOQUENT BOY-WHORE
I
WANNA BE A COLD BLONDE BITCH2 3
ASTRIDE
MY SADDLED-UP VELOCIRAPTOR DINOSAUR-RAWHIDE
SWINGING MY SPIKED-CLUB
OVER MY HEAD
FASTER AND FASTER
AND FASTER AND FASTER

WE’LL RUN THROUGH THE MESOZOIC
TO CHASE DOWN A MAN TO STASH BACK AT THE CAVE FOR LATER……
HEY! IT’S A JUNGLE OUT THERE! )

FORGIVE ME FATHER,
FOR I HAVE………..DIGRESSED..
AND IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKE,

PLEASE DON’T TWIST
THE TIMER BACK
TO ZERO….


OUR FATHER ABOVE,
DON’T YOU EVER THINK I
WONDER WHY YOU MADE ME
THE WAY I AM?


I MEAN
DON’T YOU THINK I LIKE ME THE WAY I AM?
I MEAN

DON’T YOU THINK I LIKE YOU THE WAY I AM? I MEAN THIS WAY
THE WAY I AM

I CAN’T HELP BUT
BE CURIOUS.

DON’T YOU THINK I WANT TO BE SATISFIED? I AM ALWAYS GETTING
INTO TROUBLE…

WITH ALL THE THINGS I’VE

SHOVED-UP MY TWAT,

DON’T YOU THINK

I WOULD HAVE
LEARNED MY LESSON BY NOW?

SHARP POINTED THINGS AREN’T PLEASURABLE..
NOR CAN ANY
PLEASURE BE DERIVED FROM THEM.

HAVEN’T I BLED ENOUGH BY NOW?

AND IS IT NOT NOW
STILL INCREDIBLE
THAT MANY STILL THINK THE BLOOD-STAINED LAMB
IS WORTHY
OF WORSHIP AND AWE
HEAVENLY HOLY ONE….

SO ONLY ONE QUESTION REMAINS…..
AM I STILL A LONG-SUFFERING CATHOLIC

OR AM I NOW
A BORN AGAIN BITCH?
(AM I STILL A LONG-SUFFERING CHRISTIAN


OR
AM I NOW
A BORN AGAIN BITCH?)

WHO SHALL MEET ME AT THE PEW
TO LEAD ME
INTO A CONFESSIONAL
WITH THAT LEERING BALDING FELLOW WAITING
AND WHAT SINS SHALL I CONFESS?

HAVEN’T I LEARNED MY LESSON BY NOW?

I’M NOT GOING INTO THAT STALL ALONE.

IF I
GO DOWN,
SOMEONE’S COMING WITH ME….
MISERY MAY LOVE COMPANY
BUT SO DOES
AN APOCALYPSE. AND DOWN IN THE DEPTHS OF MY SELF-CREATED
PURGATORY
I’VE FOUND
COMPANIONSHIP WITH MY EVIL TWIN SISTER
A ROWDIER
RANDIER
NASTIER
BITCH
THAN ME…

AND CHRIST
JESUS!
……………IS SHE A BLOOD-THIRSTY HEFFER !

ROLLING HER EYES
AND
SUCKING HER TEETH

EVER SO ANNOYED
CUZ
NOTHING CAN SATISFY HER, NOT EVEN ME!.

WHAT TO DO?

I CAN’T GET HER TO TESTIFY,

SHE’S NOT SPEAKING TO ME!

AND I CAN’T GET MYSELF TO
SAY
WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT


CUZ I’M JUST SPEECHLESS
WITH
HORROR.

WHAT DID I SEE IN THE SHATTERING MIRRORS
OF MY MIND’S EYE?
(T H E S H A D O W K N O W S )
WHAT DID I
SEE IN THE SUBTERRANEAN NIGHTMARE
FUNHOUSE
IN THE L-SHAPED ROOM
WITH
THE ADVANCE OF THOSE QUIET, CERTAIN FOOTSTEPS?
(T H E S H A D O W S P E A K S )

HOW FAR DOWN INTO THE DARK CAN I GO
WITHOUT
KILLING ALL THE PRECIOUS THINGS IN ME
WORTH SAVING?

AND WHY DO I FALL
AND
KEEP ON FALLING
WHEN
THE ONLY LOGICAL DIRECTION IS UP?

DEAR GOD ,
WON’T YOU PLEASE FORGIVE:
1.ONE: MY BAD ATTITUDE
2.TWO: MY BARBED PANTILINERS
3.THREE; MY TWISTED FANTASIES
4.FOUR: MY SICK ONE-LINERS
5.FIVE: AND MY GRIM APPRECIATIONS

FOR THINGS
DEAD AND BURIED
THINGS
RANK AND ROTTEN
THINGS
AND NOT LIVING
SLEEP
AND NOT WAKING.
I CAN’T
WAKE-UP!
I CAN’T MOVE!
I CAN’T SEE!
I CAN’T BREATHE!
I CAN’T SPEAK OR SCREAM!


PLEASE DON’T BURY ME!
I’M NOT DEAD YET!

I’M MERELY PARALYZED IN
AN UNHOLY TEMPLE OF SLOWLY ROTTING FLESH
MATTER
OVER
MIND AND I
CAN’T SEEM TO
WAKE-UP
FROM THIS HELLISH NIGHTMARE/WHERE
MY PRAYERS TO SEE THE LIGHT
REMAIN UNSPOKEN AND UNANSWERED/ AND I JUST…


I JUST WANT TO WAKE UP NOW!
I JUST WANT TO WAKE UP NOW
I JUST WANT TO AWAKEN!

EVEN
BAD CATHOLIC GIRLS
LIKE ME
NEED LAST RITES (….BUT)

DON’T PUT ME IN THE GROUND!
DON’T GRIEVE AT THAT DEATH-ALTAR!
THAT DEAD THING DOWN THERE
IS NOT ME!
DEAR GOD, IT’S NOT ME!

(PLEASE DON’T BURY ME
I’M NOT DEAD YET/PLEASE DON’T
BURY ME
I’M NOT YET DEAD….)

7, NOVEMBER 1996
I’M NOT AFRAID OF THE DARK #22
F I N N E G A N!

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