For my friend: NOT ONE MORE, 6/3/98

NOT ONE MORE 6/3/98

6-3-98 - 4:11P

NOT ONE MORE --- 5/2/09 Update


Don't tell me,
Lady on the Rape Investigation Hotline,
that "God never sleeps,"
that "God protects us always,"--
GOD DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK.
THIS WAS NOT "MEANT TO BE."
THIS SHOULD NEVER BE.

Where was God
when a little girl,
still innocent and loving,
despite her many years of hell,
was taken by the railroad tracks,
her spirit crushed as her body was torn
by cruel hands THAT HAD NO RIGHT?

Where was God
when that sorry, useless, diseased puke
INVADED her, BEAT her, HURT her--
was God watching?
was God loving?
Did God care?
Doesn't fucking look like it.

Where was God
when a trusting soul
was turned aside
was turned to bitter,
because a trusted friend,
some two-bit loser frat-boy predator
used her trust against her
and took what was not his.

Where was God
when an innocent young flower
was crushed by drunken hands--
BUT HE COULD NOT KILL HER SPIRIT.
Where was God?
Sleeping, distracted,
or simply amused by her pain?

Where was God.

Interesting that we live in a world
Where God is supposed to be a man.
"HE" loves us. "HE" protects us.

"HE" created Man in His own Image.

Does that mean that part of God
is a rapist?
Does that mean that God condones
violence against women?

And I say, "part of God,"
because I know that not all men are rapists.
Because I know there are good men.
And I know that there are boys who will become
good men ,*
despite growing up in a nightmarish world
that would have them be anything but.

But there are also monsters.
Beasts, diseased predators, thieves of souls.
Those who are so weak that
They must destroy

Women.

And their "God" created them.


And I tell you there is no god
Because I know there is no justice.
Because when I spoke the truth
to my parents
in 1986,
their SON got their sympathy
and I got the shaft.
I was the one--in THAT family--
who was labelled, "The Crazy One."
And all of God's horses
and all of god's men
couldn't --ever--
put my innocence back together again.

And I tell you there is no god
Because I did not have the guts
to kill that short, dumpy, ugly
motherfucker in 1991
after he dismantled my face
and I blamed myself.
And there will never be any justice
Even as every time my jaw clicks & spasms with TMJ,
I flash back to him above me,
and those ugly hands
only meant for destruction.
And where was God
as I begged for mercy?

And where was God
And where was I
when they were hurt.
I'm supposed to be
the big, strong, fierce one,
caretaker to the universe--
and I was not there.
I should have been, but I wasn't.
Even though I'm just a big, soft ninny
on the inside
who's never even been in a fight**
I LOOK like the big, scary mean bitch
And that usually discourages
the predators.

And I wish I could say
that I'm buying a gun
and going hunting on the streets of New Orleans.
I AM a damn good shot.
But I won't,
because, eventually, they'd catch me,
I know.
And then the fuckers will win, again.

They win, every time I've tried to die.
They win, every time I fail.
They win, every time I cannot function in this world
where I am still forced to live alongside them.
They win, every time I cannot love
or ever know what true love is.
They win, every time we fuck to prove we still can,
because we're only hurting ourselves.
They win, because even as we scratch and claw
to reclaim ourselves, we give up more in the process.

But what I can do, is LIVE.
I cannot repair my sisters' hearts
or bodies, or minds, or souls,
But I can be there.
I cannot bring down
the wrath as I should...
But I can lift up my sisters.

And I can
speak out,
And shine the light of truth
on those quivering cockroach parasites
Every time they try to steal innocence
and prey on someone weaker, or smaller,
or more fragile.
I am not so fragile that I cannot speak.
Because every time I speak
And every time I live,
I WIN.
And those fuckers lose.

And where will God be?
Cowering behind the cherubim?
Counselling the religious-right nazis
on how to better oppress women?
"Vengeance is mine, sayeth The Lord."
Well, The Lord's been getting sloppy
And this shit just keeps happening.

So, if we want vengeance,
we'd better start picking up the slack.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*This referred to my nephew Tater, who WAS a good man, but never got to become all that he had the potential to be, because he was murdered by the drug-dealing scum that he tried to escape.

**This was, after all, written before the Crack Whore tried to kill me in my own bed on March 15, 1999, as my Nannie heard the whole thing over the phone, and died of colon cancer 14 months later, because the beast that she adopted DENIED HER MEDICAL CARE. But it was the shock, the pain, and the horror that that day inflicted upon her that got her sick in the first damned place.