daddy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLOTwxcwfdA

Do you love me?  Do you love me?

Do you love me now daddy?

                         a miserable salve to be applied and massaged  it invites misery  degradation  shame   

how or why could one generation turn this . . thinking . . . over onto the next . . informing preparing their daughters(or sons) to make daddy happy

(fuck daddy) 

 

that they must endure pain and disgrace 

                                 for the reward of love(which he may or may not provide)

Do you love me?

              as if love is the Endgame and everything endured is tolerable

you can hear it their criesDo you love me? plaintive  quietly insistent 

though inside Do you love me? is the plea  Tell me you love me

Strip out Do you love me Insert Tell me you love me

Tell me  you love me                                                                                     

Do you?  Tell me.   theyre played against Im not supposed to Unless he wants to

Im not supposed to Unless he wants to 


                                neer ends the degradation 

what any woman wants should matter     Unless 

her Mama taught her well

taught her to be subservient sit up straight pull her hair back keep her eyes down her chin up swallow deep

Im a good girl Daddy I promise I wont weep

I dont mind that it hurts every time

Please

Keep me

the children on the street under fits of rain amount to nothing more than soft distant reflections  ethereal on the cool black windowpanes of a monstrous Old World building that stares back at them noncommittal

looking into its large flat faces under an elaborate ironworked awning the children are aware that behind them above them are pale streetlamps that also mingle in the panes  their reflections hang at the corners of the glass and chill the children giving them an impression of eyes  hungry insects eyes  alien   without lids    watching them    

terrified

        they should have run  Run!

felt the air hard and hot in their lungs their feet mad against the broken and uneven pavement sweat lacquering their armpits and weaving down the backs of their necks under their long hair  their long hair   how daddy loves to brush out their long hair and braid it into pigtails and ponytails to yank their heads around or hold in his mouth between his teeth as he snarls

the dark building goes up an up into the sobbing sky the children cant see where it ends and where the sky begins

moltensmoke ebbing into a black sky

                              the myriad insect eyes keep watch on the children  unblinking    unfazed

the Old World building grunts and groans scratches itself then gets up off its knees cobblestones and crushed earth fall from its worn filthy pantlegs 

its done resisting

its done letting its blood rise

the children lean back looking up into its disguised face catch their breaths

they dont dare move their feet

they dont dare shuffle their shoes 

theres punishment if they do

they stand

captive

then out of the sky he reaches down gravel showers from his bared forearms it sounds like rain striking the pavement and bounces off and gloms onto their wet clothing

the gravel colours their upturned faces like freckles

his nails are blunt split and broken his hands are filthy he doesnt brush them off or think to wash his hands before he reaches out  touches them    fondles them 

who will stop him

he pushes them down on their backs or onto their knees he knows

they adore him

they want daddys love

0011,  Saturday,  16 7. 16

 1710,  Monday,  18 7. 16

Mama Taught Me Well

Kill J   Album: Quasi EP

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

Do you love me now daddy?
Do you love me now daddy?
Keep my back straight
Pull my hair back
My mama taught me well

Do you love me now daddy?
Will you kiss me now daddy?
I keep my eyes down
Chin up
My mama taught me well
My mama taught me well

I'm not supposed to
Unless he wants to
She taught me well
That frown makes you look old
No one loves full grown

Baby I don't mind that it hurts every time
Do you love me?
Baby I don't mind that it hurts every time
Do you love me?

Do you love me?
Do you love me?

Will you kiss me now daddy?
Will you touch me now daddy?
I'm a good girl
Swallow deep
I promise I won't weep

Civil War photographer Mathew Brady said  The camera is the eye of History*

perhaps he can attest for the War and forward through all the worlds conflicts  --  he cites its opticks in the light of warfare  --  forward until the recent advent of our cruelest killing machine

the drone

whose eyes are closed to us

whose eyes are now fixed and determinant of History

its cameras are not objective                            

they See

they are subjective

they cannot talk of History because they are not passive observers

they are opaque

they are not witnesses(hunters)

they cannot prevaricate

there is a contingency who may believe its Omnipresent Eyes can reflect the Truth

though one would have to question if the revealed data is raw or if it has been manipulated

inconveniently  it can also be erased

a drone Sees only what it is directed to see

his longstanding knock of cameras and drones and why he would refute Bradys pronouncement is that a camera Sees only what its pointed at

it lacks peripheral or the curiosity to be distracted by its peripheral and look furthur                                                                                               

possibly  just outside its frame excused excised might be the very evidence that belies the Truth it paints and could reveal something else entirely

there are unexamined Points of View  Frames of Reference  Biases

and without those blatantly apparent 

without bitter Transparency

The Camera  The Eye of History

would mock History

and worse

fabricate it

no decision made affecting a drones lethality and History will ever involve true democratic discourse 

   

 

1638,  Twosday,  12  7. 16

0927, Thursday,  14  7. 16

* Susan Sontag  Regarding the Pain of Others

What a gasbag a real card  a keeper                                           

                               she gripped her silken tines tighter                       

Aint it like a biped to think he knows

then out of that flimsy knowing thinks he can deliberate and disseminate    That he can tell the my tale

A biped    Two     I got eight

Bi-ocular    Two        I got eightHes got no idea I can shame him seven ways to Sunday without tryin without breakin a sweat

But my kind doesnt sweat

He doesnt understand that in the big scheme of things hes low-end rent Probably has to evolve more

Im evolved to perfection

My species was at its morning coffeebreak when bipeds were snacks for  ohhow would he say itAh    snacks for lions and tigers and bearsOhMy

Im coppin a line he copped from his gibberish box and enjoys 

Its humourous to him

Me an mine  we have no time for gibberish

It might look like we do that we have time on our hands but looks are deceiving

Hed bitch this remark  Ive been watchin him watchin me longer than he knows 

He thinks he noticed me first and has been watchin me since  As if its a oneway street

But when he comes in he doesnt always look up  Im up out of sight  Out of sight out of mind

He has to remember or he doesnt

I  I dont have to remember

Im hanging upside down over him whenever he enters  To take a leak or shit shower or shave bathe

I see him every time he comes in

Predators do

He yaks to whoever will listen about my two suicidesWerent suicides

They were bad timing

A girls gotta stretch her legs turn around refresh her perspective

It was dumb luck he caught me in the shower when he didBoth times both times

Sudden Im under a monstrous deluge Im knocked pins over teakettle I cant fnd a foothold an off somewhere I hear the roil and suck of a drain     somewhere that I cant see       

I admit I was frightened

But isnt that how The End plays out   

I cant say we ever expect it though there are a few who do  Im sorry for them

Nobody really sees it coming not the Real End  The End  No not it

As as sudden Im plucked from the watery maelstrom on the fibers of a showerbrush

He calls me suicidal

Im not suicidal

I got lousy timing

I am a cannibal                                                                                                                                   

Stupid males cant seem to take No for an answer as if theres no finality in the word that theres wiggle room it can be negotiated equivocated

No

I said No nicely  Once

Then I ate em

Take that as a lesson to you

1907,  Thursday,  14  7. 16

1101,  Friday,  15  7. 16

Chicken Shack  The Thrill is Gone  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRMKTIXtFx4