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From: "S Farragher" <farragher@nj.rr.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders: A Gadfly 'Past Tense Report
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Date: Fri, 18 Feb 2005 16:10:01 -0500
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Taxi Murders Web Site: http://taximurders.com
Poetry Site: http://seanfarragher.com
Long Poem: Work in Progress: http://byzantium2001.com
(9-11-2001 and Terrorism of the Child Abuse)
http://blastmagazine.org
farragher@nj.rr.com


Taxi Murders
A Gadfly 'Past Tense Report':
Thursday, April 18, 1991

Laurie Fallon as Chrissy's was child like, drunk, and exploited. She was
multiple people. When she looked in the mirror she saw a nine year old
female she called Faith.

Faith was Laurie's mystical interior. Chrissy was also the child the
kidnappers called Faith. She was kept dirty while Abel clawed at her final
vestal hymen. 

Abel loved the spirit Faith AKA as Laurie and Chrissy. He faked devotion,
and Laurie not fooled kept her wits. She vowed to destroy Abel and Lilith.

Abel tortured himself as living beings did when they knew they were wrong as
one would masturbate with a pencil, and the tip breaks penetrating your
anus, and no self effecting commentary would fool the pretend Nurse
Assistant Lilith, incestuous sister of Abel who constantly laughed to
herself and at the foolish and naive Doctor who thought and believed that
when the fool sat down on a pencil stuck in a couch and it entered precisely
at the right place, it was an accident.

The Aid knew what the Doctor could not accept; perverse as it seemed, that
anal irritation was more normal than murder, mutilation, remorse, or
arrogantly assuaged as in Lilith's case by a numb feeling that rode her eyes
and hands forcing them for death without reason or anger just nothing. 

Chrissy taunted the terrible pair who had murdered nine women. She made them
sick with guilt and failure before having her way as she said. I murdered
them as they did themselves. I had mercy; they did not. "What a summary of
death we be." 

Laurie affected a false speech when taunted.

Blank. Deadly focus. 

Lilith scored death like a crow bar snaps the hub cap from the wheel. Get it
done to reach the next step, which is really nothing but a tire change or a
human change or a spirit's death. Do spirits like the Gadfly die? No, they
observe. They are the narrator. I as the Gadfly do narrate this tale. God, I
love the gore.

Of course, all of this could not be known until after Laurie was found dead,
captured or released. No, it was a prophecy after all. There is no mystery
here, no explication, and no reasoned summary or twisted plot capsules. 

Sufferings is suffering, and the point here, and listen: Admit it. We don't
care. If we did, there would be no more, no more. Sad ass fin. We live for
pleasure, don't we?


2. The Gadfly Speaks about Chrissy as Narrator:

Laurie had her double within Chrissy, and also inside the child, Faith,
(like all of us) claimed with some deception of pleasure and revulsion: an
opposing force that Engel's preached in London before Einstein- it was the
blessed dialectic Faith and her Chrissy espoused. 

Chrissy as word didn't appear on any tongue or inside the damp cleft; truly,
a bad word, pedophilia, really which is the fraudulent love of children,
always an awkward silence after saying it- It is certainly not that romantic
visions to propagate in ads and on TV (but we do) or even here in the
letters and trivia of serial murder. 

Do not exploit children, nor turn them as objects. What's the corollary? Do
not make them afraid. Sir or Madam Abuse is more likely at home, eating
hamburgers, and then hanging on the street corner. 

Not a problem for spirits -- We're amused, and for that we are faraway. The
punch line, and let this be clear: our records show that one third of the
children were exploited, but it has only been a hundred years since this new
attitude. Children are still for all the ugly reasons sold in Roman slave
markets.

If you are property (what an ugly word) and I don't mean a being that
conjugates separately from its parents, heroes, and peers. It is fatuous
(and trite) to assume that prejudice, ethnicity resolves rights and protects
growth and opportunity. 

I, the honorable Gadfly, would never find reason to discourage the
imagination. I can not force the mind out of plot and dialogue to a blind
rectitude. What happens there in Laurie Land does exist. It is, but here's
the difference. It harms no one as words. 

There is no loss. Inside, we weaken, and the mind ranges, and where we
dwell, what does it matter. It is, but only then. There are no consequences
if the thought never ripens into a premeditated act. 

Enough of this kissing up! Chrissy as Laurie was exempt, you know. And she
changed. So what happened did also not happen, if I have confused you. 

Yet, child and sex existed, and I, the Gadfly, as a living form had no
guilt. But like my false son, Able, I loved the incipient frame. 

We wanted to be there first. Even the goody, goody Henry sanctified the
shaved pudenda. He called it a pubic pear. I did not know the Jews Henry
said, after the holocaust. 

No Jews were gassed here in the USA. That's a Communist lie. Trickery. Never
genocide. We are Goethe and Schiller - and Not Faust. Impossible. Not in
Germany. 

Henry's disgust was fake, myopic, gathered like dust you cannot expel from
inside the throat. 

Henry could not force Laurie away that first night he met her on the cab
stand. Laurie as Chrissy sensed money, closed the sale, pushed to keep two
dollars like the string of cock in her mouth, hard, only barely covered. He
let her, holding and caressing her wet hair. Henry thought about it forever
after that first night. He was scared he would never have such an orgasm
again.

What if this moment, his orgasm was the last one? What if the Gods were
tormented, and this woman child took my load and then washed Henry away,
with sweet tasting vinegar and dispatched him with a round from his own
weapon. 

Henry's destiny: she is Laurie, Chrissy and Faith. Henry loved death in the
cold and dark; He was alone at the creep in the swap or the dull of the
dirty hill, barren as the trees blown clean away by bombs away bombast. 

What a silly allusion and yet true. What is that? Lies? No, More myths as
copulating Gods muscular, accorded the ass and cunny as a trophy, Laurie,
the real Laurie looked up when she finished hugged Henry's legs, and
ordered, buy me coke too, she said pretending she was back in Nam with her
protector. 

How could I resist? Henry lifted Chrissy, Laurie and Faith. They all were 26
years old and women in love. 

Chrissy squealed. Pulled her up to his arms. His come on her lips. How cruel
that song of multiple designs. 

Murder and abuse, war and retribution are the least of us, but then again,
we watch the abuse don't we? We get off on it. We say we don't, but we do.
We scream as the dick is bent to come or the baseball thrown at the batter's
head connects and he is down. We are all down. Fuck it.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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