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Though wet mud and feces are all over me
In the Super Bowl on the drenched AstroTurf
Or the wet fields suburban with a coffee pot
And I am the Coffee Kaffee Kafi Kafir Girl
Observing torture or murder
The ugly voices are gone at last
I put the mud back on my face
With resolution and shaky hands
I am the white girl with the mud


Submitted:Aug 16, 2011    Reads: 16    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Mud

For the Fatima My Love Writings

© 2011 Patricia McGurk Martin Hearst Himmler

Though wet mud and feces are all over me

In the Super Bowl on the drenched AstroTurf

Or the wet fields suburban with a coffee pot

And I am the Coffee Kaffee Kafi Kafir Girl

Observing torture or murder

The ugly voices are gone at last

I put the mud back on my face

With resolution and shaky hands

I am the white

With soft strong hair in my face messy

But really neat falling over my eyes

My girl's face is the woman's

Not really lost

Though the aborigine may be gone

I am not sure where my Beloved is

I never had a father who was an aborigine

I still wear the mud masks of our people

Walking endlessly for years

with the universe I am wearing the cracked

mud mask it protects me

During the soul split

They cannot split my soul

Because I walk slowly

Slower than the snail sometimes

I shriek with forced movements

The urine smells familiar

Reminiscent of past torture

Urine on my girl's underpants

My body under stress

I gauge how much by the smell of

My urine it is always mine

But bright spots of blood on my

Little girl's panties are too red

To symbolize procreation as

The woman's blood is not this red

Like a Cut a Wound in my perfect Body

But so is the shit I say

The shit is all mine and I love

To keep the shit in this life'

For leverage in the future

My excrement is the only

Possession I have sometimes

As I flush it down the toilet

It disappears my ownership

I am one

One year old or less

IT IS MY SHIT

Or it is simply mine

All mine

The butterfly screamed the Monarch Butterfly

screamed the BITTERFLY

My Body is Mine AND I BECOME

An insect again the aborigine I must be one

Year old again endlessly

Eating the Bitterfruit living in brutality braces

And endless degradation

It could be the fan in my face

Blowing too hard that killed me

Blowing my face in the back of me

Where my face also is waiting

Searching for Me as well as

For the stabbers in the bathroom

Of my Beloved I wait as a black widow

To avenge and protect the only one I love

My Beloved

The wind blew too hard without me

This time it blew without me

And I am the Wind

There is no rain without the wind

No storms without the rain

Blown by the driving winds low

On the arid swollen prairies nearby I BLOW

For my own justice for stolen years

Decades of constant unbearable agony

Knowing I will die any second because

I was a child when this evil started

I BLOW

The thunderclouds up and over

you

I BLOW

I BLOW

The thunderclouds starting sometimes

In the missing night's dreams

But waking in the day

Blowing my BLOW





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