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Aueoi

I wrote this the day after seeing 'Antichrist', about 18 months ago, and read it at the Poet's Café in Reading that night. Let us say the applause was more 'Thank God he's finished!' than 'Encore!'. I publish it now as an appropriate beginning to Holy Week. for Lars von Trier   The maenad cuts Her clit with scissors, pulls  blood from His prick. Tiresias nods and laughs  at agony in woody places, full  of nothing new. The gynocide is crafted  by three beggars, and Satan’s church is nature.  Grief is a Deer, her stillbirth hanging aft.  Pain is a Fox that gnaws its belly – state  of chaos. Despair’s a Crow that never ends  until the maenads climb a lonely hill to rend