out. They hide; they run. One day the women will burn down
Tim es Square; I’ve seen it in m y mind; I know; it’s in flames.
The women will come out o f their houses from all over and
they will riot and they will burn it down, raze it to the ground,
it will be bare cement; and we will execute the pimps. N o
woman will ever be hurt there again; ever; again; it is a simple
fact. I threw blood all over their weaponry; their whips; their
chains; their spiked dildos; their leashes; I have buckets o f
blood, nurses give it to me, raped nurses; and I cover
everything, the slave clothes, the bikinis, the nighties, the
garter belts, and the things they tie you down with and the
things they stick up you and the things they hurt you with,
nipple clips and piercing things; I drench them in blood; I
make them blood-soaked, as is a w om an’s life; I think over
time I will engage in a new art, painting their world blood red
as they have painted mine; simple self-expression, with a
political leaning but neither right nor left per se, the anti-rape
series it will be called, with real life as the canvas; and I will try
to make the implicit explicit; a poet said, make the implicit
explicit; a political theorist said, make the implicit explicit; the
blood o f women is implicit in the weaponry; I will take the
blood o f women implicit in the weaponry and I will make it
explicit; and from this I enunciate another political principle,
which is, The blood o f women is implicit, make it explicit. A
woman I didn’t know with the face o f an angel approached
me. She leaned over. She touched me softly on the shoulder.
She whispered. She had serious and kind eyes. She had a soft
and kind voice. Andrea, she said, it is very important for
women to kill men. I contemplated this, shuddering; I
meditated on it; I breathed in deeply; I drew pictures, stories o f
life with men, with pencils, with crayons; I dreamed; I
understood yes; yes, it is. I enunciated a political principle,
which went as follows: It is very important for women to kill
men. His death, o f course, is unbearable. His death is
intolerable, unspeakable, unfair, insufferable; I agree; I learned
it since the day I was born; terrible; his death is terrible; are you
crazy; are you stupid; are you cruel? He can’t be killed; for
what he did to you? It’s absurd; it’s silly; unjustified; uncivilized; crazed; another madwoman, where’s the attic? He didn’t mean it; or he didn’t do it, not really, or not fully, or not
knowing, or not intending; he didn’t understand; or he
couldn’t help it; or he w on ’t again; certainly he will try not to;
unless; well; he just can’t help it; be patient; he needs help;
sym pathy; over time. Yes, her ass is grass but you can’t expect
miracles, it takes time, she wasn’t perfect either you know; he
needs time, education, help, support; yeah, she’s dead meat;
but you can’t expect someone to change right away, overnight, besides she wasn’t perfect, was she, he needs time, help,
support, education; well, yeah, he was out o f control; listen,
she’s lucky it wasn’t worse, I’m not covering it up or saying
what he did was right, but she’s not perfect, believe me, and he
had a terrible mother; yeah, I know, you had to scrape her o ff
the ground; but you know, she w asn’t perfect either, he’s got a
problem; he’s human, he’s got a problem. Oh, darling, no; he
didn’t have a problem before; now he’s got a problem. I am on
this earth to see that now he has a problem. It is very important
for wom en to kill men; he’s got a problem now. I was in the
courtroom. The walls were brown. The judge wore a long
black dress. G o d ’s name was written on the wall over his head.
There were police everywhere. The rapist smiled; at the
woman. He had kidnapped her. He had held her for nearly
tw o days, or was it four, or were there five o f them, each being
tried separately? He had fucked her over and over, brutally.
He had sliced her with a knife. He had sodomized her. He had
burned her. She shaked; she shivered; she screamed; she cried.
He walked; the ju ry found her guilty. I was in the court. The
walls were gray. He beat the wom an near to death; they were
married; the judge didn’t see the problem; she’s the wife, after
all; the guy walked. T hejudge wore a long black dress. G o d ’s
name was written on the wall above his head. I was in the
courtroom. The walls were green. The judge wore a long
black dress. G od ’s name was written on the wall above his
head. The daddy had raped the kid, over and over, so many
times, she was four, he wanted custody, he got it, it was a
second marriage, the first kid was raped too but the judge
w ouldn’t admit it into evidence, said it was prejudicial, you
know, just because he did it to that one doesn’t prove that he
did it to this one; they keep saying that; with them all; the
beaters and the rapers; just stack the women they did it to
before, the past women, in piles, for garbage collection; don’t
want them to prejudice how we look at him this time, when he
did it to this one w ho’s a slut anyway which isn’t prejudicial
because it is axiomatic; how many times does he get to do it in
his lifetime, to how many, whatever it is he likes doing, a
beater, a raper, o f women, o f children; that’s w hy they don’t
teach girls to count. I want each one followed. I want each one
killed. It is very important for women to kill men. I know girls
whose fathers fucked them; near to death; it’s a deferred death
sentence on her, she does it to herself, later. I know girls who
been banged by thousands o f men; I am one such girl myself. I
know girls who been cut open and fucked in the hole. I know a
girl who was kidnapped by a bunch o f college boys, a
fraternity, and kept for days; used over and over; beat her to
blood and pus; sliced her throat and dumped her; I know her
and I know another woman raped the same w ay, wasn’t
sliced, she escaped; I know so many girls who been kidnapped
and gang-raped you couldn’t fit them into a ballroom; I know
so many girls who been tortured as children you couldn’t fit
them into a ballroom; I know so many girls who was fucked
by their daddies you couldn’t fit them into a ballroom. N o one
cares; how many times can you say raped; it don’t matter and
no one stops them. I throw rocks through the w indows o f rape
emporiums; I destroy business properties o f men who rape; or
men who beat women; if I find out; sometimes I hear her
screaming; there’s screaming all over the cities; it travels up the