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Date Posted: 11:26:59 02/28/02 Thu
Author: Crass
Subject: Asylum
Asylum
I am no feeble Christ. Not me. He hangs in glib delight, upon his cross, above my body.
Christ forgive.
Forgive? I vomit for you, Jesu. Shit forgive. Down, now, from your cross. Down, now, from your papal heights... from that churlish suicide, Petulant child, down from those pious heights, royal flag bearer, goat, billy. I vomit for you.
Forgive? Shit, he forgives. He hangs in crucified delight nailed to the extent of his vision. His cross, his manhood, violence, guilt, sin. He would nail my body upon his cross.
Suicide visionary, death reveller, rake, rapist, life-fucker, Jesu, earthmover, Christus, grave digger. You dug the pits of Auschwitz; the soil of Treblinka is your guilt -- your sin.
Master? Master of gore. Enigma. You carry the standard of our oppression. Enola is your gaiety, the bodies of Hiroshima are your delight. The nails are the only trinity, so hold them in your corpsey gracelessness. That is the image I have had to suffer. The cross is the virgin body of womanhood that you defile. You nail yourself to your own sin.
Yay, though, Jesus calls me sister. There are no words for my contempt. Every woman is a cross in his filthy theology; in his arrogant delight. He turns his back upon me in his fear. He dare not face me.
Fear-fucker. Share nothing, you Christ, sterile, impotent, fuck-love-prophet-of-death. You are the ultimate pornography in your cunt-fear, cock-fear, man-fear, woman-fear, unfair warfare....
Warfare!!
Warfare!!
Warfare!!
Warfare!!
Warfare!!
Warfare!!
Warfare!!
Jesus died for his own sins, not mine
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