LEGEND OF “THE LEGEND OF THE CURSED MOTHER, MARY OF BETHANY, A HEARTLESS SINNER”

Author’s note: The function of the religious references in my poetry is solely archetypal. I’m not otherwise particularly interested in religion, aside for its educational purposes, nor am I at all religious.

Cursed Mother, Mary Of Bethany

A sinner she, stoned to death for whoring, for the Lord made her unable to conceive; caught in the act of fornication with other women, for witchcraft, for an attempt to murder her husband with the soup of slain swans; her sins are many, and she is but one of many sinners

 And what can she say, Mary, the spat-in-her-face mother?
she – heiress of the firstborn whore in the city?
the Bible’s bad girl
Barren?
A prostitute?
A heartless sinner?
give her beauty and truth, to ruin them
cut off her Rumina’s breasts, to soak her wounds with tears
let thorns grow within her belly instead of children, she will bleed…

This is poetry of the rebellious blood
in insurgency

MARY:
My ghostly eye was pointed at a thick
thorn that burst out of my body and continued growing…
a thin beam of sunlight turned it into a vampire limb for raping of human souls

O, you vampiric slingers!

Do the Prophet’s words not haunt thee?

Dear husband, do the devil’s sneers not haunt you?

Cast not your stones at my eyes!

 l, an infertile woman with
slit chest
I, Mary Of Bethany, an unmercifully wicked sinner
I hug my children under the tongue of the sky
in the celestial womb where
all my unborn children lie hidden
and the resurrected body of this world and all other worlds
and drops of milk running down my swollen breasts
blessed,
I nourish my castaway children under the star–spangled sky and refresh them with bloody bile and wine

I am a feminist drag King Of Heaven
Praise Jesus.

Thwack thwack thwack