BELLA CHASE
POET
OF THE
APOCALYPSE
THE PAIN IS GONE
The pain is gone, but not the love.
The love is left to burn inside
the body's bright electric frame.
The love is glued like viscous blood
to bones which keep the heart in place.
One heart, one cunt: your eyes, your face.
If I could choose between the two,
I'd chose the pain above the love.
I'd choose to suffer. Just like you.
For love is like the season's clock
that beats inside a turtle dove,
about to tear into spring flame.
It cries into the wind with lust.
It loves its gods. It turns to dust,
but never dies. Its voice survives
to mourn again and every day.
I'd rather die than live this way,
afraid of love and not of pain.
WORMS IN MY GARDEN
Every time I find a worm, I rejoice.
The garden soil is healthy, its dross
devoured by red crawlers who squirm
through dirt, serving a purpose.
Like maggots have a purpose.
Like assassins have a purpose.
To kill, to consume, to abet
some higher unknown purpose.
They bring chaos to the innocent,
wreak havoc among the unsuspecting,
destroy and degrade all precious things,
and blindly work dark magic.
ECHO PARADISE
When they come for me,
when they come to take me away,
I will fight, I will fight,
I will fight them with claws.
But if they come for me with guns and knives,
and I cannot fight, then I will go peacefully.
I will go to whatever hell they have planned
and I will be the best devil any hell's ever seen.
I will eat their thin gruel.
I will drink from their sewers.
I will sleep on their floors.
I'll act mad in their wards.
I will fuck whoever's in charge.
I will make a new life for myself.
It will be my Paradise.
BELLA CHASE, POET OF THE APOCALYPSE
is a fictional character in my novel AMAZON HAMMER,
a post-millenium techno-fantasy.
"Echo Paradise" is a universal concentration camp.
SEX AND HISTORY:
revised on January 11, 1998
copyright © 1998
Gloria Glickstein
Brame
Reproduction or distribution of any of the
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by the laws governing intellectual property rights.