What saint do you
pray to when your starving mule
mind
throws your cheating ex’s stupid
face
into the radio and invents
floodlights?
Limbo is full of your white lighters
& half-finished bottles of lube
so I hotbox my car straight to hell.
I pierce the softest parts of myself
with pure steel.
What Betty Crocker book
teaches women
to boil blood blow lids shatter bowls?
to crawl into an oven
to break cheekbones against
baking racks ?
The Patron saint of revenge
was a Bad Bitch named Olga of Keiv who
invited her enemies over for a party and
then boiled them alive in her bathhouse.
If you can’t stand the heathen, stay out of the kitchen.
I stuff honey soaked beach
towels in the crack under every door.
And huff all my own holy horror
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorched.
I say a prayer and asphyxiate
the room.
Uma Thurman who art in heaven,
Hallow it be thy foot up Cottonmouth’s ass. Thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in Kill Bill.
Give us this day our daily bread and forgive all the times I held my tongue. Deliver me from these gaslightning gods. In the name of the Sissy Spacek drenched in pig blood, Lorena Bobbitt, and the bat to both headlights.
Call Dr. Horder. Amen.