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