five or six or seven o'clock in the morning

It has always been me not you
And now it is a little about you

My brain moves my body
And keeps its balance
There would not be a thing for my brain to control
If I did not have a body
I stuff my doby doby body with tabaco
As it screams “No more, no more”
Hush lungs, hush body
The brain wants it

And the brain wants your company
And my body will not be touched
As I walk by the bus and the people
And you are not one of the people
But everyone else is part of the people
I walk slowly like a mad woman
I smile like a woman
I smile not like a girl

The girl who manufactured gods
And wanted them so badly
It was not them I wanted but me
I wanted me

I do not have me
I remain suspended between people who will not have me
I only look at people who will not have me
The people who want me are not people
Though they are among the people
They are puppets, puppets I pity and love
But puppets will not carry me
And people will not have me
And the people among people are not really people

A true god would never touch me
I would never want a true god to touch me
For he may become a puppet, infected with my need

But you I want as my audience
You I want as my spectator
I want to be your spectator

Give me one of your mornings
Give me a blanket at six o’clock in the morning
Listen to my words and be silent
Listen to my words and understand some of them
And love the ones you do not understand


My fingers are stained
Slowly I come back to life
To the life called life
To the life I call a must
Slowly six o’clock in the morning fades away
And I go with it
I vanish from myself like a vision
I whisper “Stay, stay” but I am afraid
Of the people among the people
I am afraid of your absence
I am so afraid of my absence
Do not leave
Do not leave

A big red nose
Swallen lips
Eyes made of glass
A repulsive face
This is what I will show you at six o clock in the morning
I will tell you words and I will not be ashamed
For a minute or two I will not apologize
For a minute or so I will not entertain anyone but me
And you will be in awe with me
And I will be in awe with me
And with you
And you will not know what to say
But I will know what to say
I will not need your touch
For my words and you will run against a touch

Then the big silence of coal will follow
I will smell it
It will leave me empty and useless
I will want to sleep but my brain will refuse
My stomach will ask for tomatoes
But my brain will have none of it

I did not become a woman when you penetrated me
I did not become a woman when my breasts started to show
I did not become a woman when I should have become a woman
I am a late, a late woman
The only woman I can be
After the girl, the girl that I wasted away
The girl that I used to feed the swine with
The girl that gave her flesh and muscles and bones to my father who would not have them
To a boy who would not have them
To another boy who would not have them
To my mother who would not have them
To my grandfather who would not have them
To my grandmother, but by this time my flesh and muscles and bone were starting to rot
So my grandmother died
So I ran and ran to find a host for my flesh and muscles and bones
The harder I ran the stronger the stench was


I still have them, my flesh and my muscles and my bones
I would give them to you
But they smell
So this morning this morning at six or seven a clock
I tried to cut myself open, in the toilets
And stuff myself with my flesh and muscles and bones
They almost fit in and I said
Now I am a woman
Now I am whole
Now I am a whore
I am a whole woman
A whole rotten woman
A whore is better than a girl
A dead whore is better than a whore