Elizabeth Short’s body, January 15th, 1947, Museum of DeathOh! Death to Nancy
What is this taht (sic) I can see
Cold icy hands taking hold of me
for Death has come, you all can see.
Hell has open it,s (sic) gate to trick me.
Oh! Death, Oh! Death, can't you spare
me, over for another year!
I'll stuff your jaws till you can't talk
I'll blind (sic) your leg's (sic) till you can't walk
I'll tie your hands till you can't make a
stand.
And finally I'll close your eyes so you
can't see
I'll bring sexual death unto you for me.
B.T.K.Letter to the police, February 1978Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear
T' was perfect plan of deviant pleasure so bold on that Spring nite
My inner felling hot with propension of the new awakening season
Warn, wet with inner fear and rapture, my pleasure of entanglement, like new vines at night
Oh, Anna, Why Didn't You Appear
Drop of fear fresh Spring rain would roll down from your nakedness to scent to lofty fever that burns within,
In that small world of longing, fear, rapture, and desparation, the game we play, fall on devil ears
Fantasy spring forth, mounts, to storm fury, then winter clam at the end.
Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear
Alone, now in another time span I lay with sweet enrapture garments across most private thought
Bed of Spring moist grass, clean before the sun, enslaved with control, warm wind scenting the air, sun light sparkle tears in eyes so deep and clear.
Alone again I trod in pass memory of mirrors, and ponder why for number eight was not.
Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear
Letter to Anna Williams, June 1978"Wanted $2000 Reward", 1923, Philadelphia Museum of ArtMuseum of Death, Los Angeles (closed)
LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a políciaEtiquetas: Art, Black Dahlia, caralho, Crime, Death, Disobedience, Duchamp, foda-se caralho, José Sócrates, Poetry, politically correct, serial killers, Sexuality