Kate - B. Dolan

I know myself,

Even better than jesus does.

I stole from churches.

I owe god money.

there was a girl with no gag reflex

and a summer with no idea

stealing to buy drugs with katie

who needed her smoke so much more than the pope

needed another painting in the vatican

days in the warehouse waiting

katie and the baby and katie

on my lunch break alone

us just wanting to be

alone

her nature versus nurture

she was wild;

she was like a berserker fairy

breath sweetened with nicotine tar intention

tension and touching behind backs, whispers

in the house, excuses for the dark

hands for flesh and the most realest

despair in the

wide

wide universe

her parents were always home and never around

like her live in addict, accidental baby daddy:

his name was adrian

he used to stab himself in the leg with darts for attention

one day during an argument, he backed his truck up

down the street, then drove it at full speed into a tree in front of their house

i used to watch it all go down and want her

i used to feed the baby and try to come down

i was 18, she was 17,

i was into drugs, she was in love

it was all

all about me

as always

she heard my first slam poem.

all summer we went to cemeteries to smoke

that’s where i learned to open the box in my throat

sang the blues all over

but mostly in cemeteries

all life lived in me, i brought it to katie

and katie brought life

at 17.

she loved ice coffee

she loved me

she loved her daughter

she loved her stories

she loved everything & wanted only to love

i made her write it in a journal

and why is it

that when i wanted girls to inspire themselves

and come alive and write their fire into books and bleed like this for

themselves and be healed like

i got it see?

it’s not hard and its good and you can do it more did you yes

good why is it

that they never did

until i kissed them

and then they would write things about me

which is not what i wanted

but was fun, and suddenly fed me

so i forgot where i was

which was

in the pages

being tattooed down

waiting to be turned over

making the mistake,

feeling her in the dark, the shock of her smell

the strength of her hold, like girls forget how to do when they get older

she had a grip like her baby.

was she 13 or 14

when one of the falco brothers

laced a joint with PCP

her and her cousin

katie couldn’t move

while he raped her

her cousin couldn’t move

while she watched.

for god’s sake, for the love of all time, in this life and the next,

from heaven and hell

by any power that exists, by every force of compulsion in the universe;

god-FUCK

the falco brothers, god hate them,

and destroy them before anything like justice

can ever exist

the motherfuckers who gave me my first punch in the face

who leered like the jackals of chaos over the beds of everything good

this is human cancer, living in the shadows of a ghost town

demanding innocence of off people like lunchmoney!

later raped it off them!

jumped it off them!

stripped it off them!

stole it from them!

multiplied and thrived til another generation of

sweet

smithfield girls was gone!

gone into the paths in the woods!

gone into whatever trailor held the grand nightmare of life that night

JESUS CHRIST!

SMITHFIELD SCREAMS TO ME LIKE AN OPEN

MOUTH, BLACK MUD WITH RUSTED IRON GUMS AND GRINDING GEARS FOR TEETH

IN MY DREAMS!

HANTON CITY THE MONSTER OF TIME!

HEAVY FIST OF THE ALCOHOLIC DEATH-GOD

BLOATED WITH THE BLOOD OF MY FATHER!

STILL HOLDING HIM IN ITS JAWS!

GRINNING LIKE A FALCO AT ALL THE BODIES IN ITS BASEMENT

MURDER!

MURDER!

SO MANY GIRLS

WHERE THE FUCK WERE THE PARENTS

WAS EVERYONE INSANE?

THE KIDS THE KIDS THE KIDS // ALL AROUND ME

GETTING LAID TO WASTE

JIMMY TO LONELINESS AND HIS MOTHER’S MESS

THOMAS TO LIES AND PRESSURE

JOHN TO SOME IDIOT CHURCH!

JOHN TO LEUKEMIA

DOMINIC PULLED AWAY FROM US BY DIVORCE

MONEY AND CONTEMPT!

MIKE, MIKE

MIKE, WITH NO EXCUSE

MIKE WITH NO MERCY

MIKE MY BEST FRIEND

MIKE TO BUTLER HOSPITAL, TO BUTLER TO BUTLER

TO ME TO BUTLER TO PILLS.

TO PILLS TO PILLS TO ME TO DEAD MUSICIANS

DEAD HANDS BIG BROTHER THE SERIOUS «FUCK YOU!»

FROM THE SKY

THE INEVITIBILITY AND THE SIMPLE SURENESS THAT LIFE DOESN’T WANT YOU

WILL BREAK YOU SOON, AND IS MUCH TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO EVEN TRY

MIKE THE INEXPLICABLE, PERFECT AND ETERNAL

failure.

who lives to this day… i think.

i have seen him this year.

i know that katie lives too.

i know that rena lives with her

i pray that adrian is gone

and that rena was never old enough to remember him

i know that rena was never old enough to remember me

i hope she has seen a picture of me holding her

i have a picture of her in my wallet

last month, for a couple weeks i forgot the name

of the baby in my wallet

the babies name is rena

i know that i will love them both until i die.

i went back to college and dropped out

katie went back to figuring this thing out

but was missing me

i forgot to miss her

for awhile

now things are slower

i know katie doesn’t fuck with drugs anymore

i know i mostly don’t either

im sorry for everything

but also not at all

i hope all things for them

jimmy, thomas, john & john paul

dominic, mike,

kate

rena.