The Gospel According to Magdalene

I.

1. I saw you first, writing in the sand

I couldn't hear you: They were cursing me, throwing stones, screaming

Bitch Cunt Whore Bitch Cunt Whore

2. I couldn't hear you: You were quiet and the pimp was holding me,

Whispering in my ear,

Telling me I was a man's woman

A natural born whore,

And Mama smiled and turned her head, paid the mortgage on my back,

And spit on me. You parasite, she hissed, you little bitch,

You made Papa bad.

3. So I ran, ran, ran, ran, ran for my life

In any direction I could

Like a dead leaf I rode the wind

I didn’t know

That you were the cloud that would carry me

Didn't feel

Your wind beneath my veins

Didn't hear

The birds I followed with my eyes

I flew without breath, running for my life.

4. I couldn't hear you, you were so quiet

I still don't know why

And the pimp’s voice was soft, hissing in my ear, telling me

I was damned if I didn't

And the tricks were leering, saying

I was damned if I did, but do me baby,

Just do me now

And their women, their thin, cold women

Just told me I was damned.

5. I saw you first, writing in the sand

Even as I ran for my life:

The mob turned to you, saying,

Rabbi, should we kill her?

And you laughed:

And I saw the word you had written in the brown sand,

And your hand writing twice just in case I didn't see,

And I saw the word as I fell to the soft sand,

The word of beginning, the word in your hand,

And I took the word, all the words, and wrote them all over

and I laughed and I wrote and was free

Chapter 5. Stations

I was there, I saw your face

When you fell for the third time

When the cross dragged you under

When they nailed you at last.

I was there, I saw your face

When the pain of betrayal

Would have made any man

Sell his soul to be dead

I was there, I saw your face

When you cried to the Heavens

Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachtani?

And the heavens  split open

For the grace of despair

For that prayer of despair

For the gift of despair.

Revelation: The Second Coming

It's time for the second coming, boy where have you been ? I've missed you.

I just called to say

that the boys are back in town and I'm with them

and we're ready to rock

ready to rumble

ready to roll

I know I’ve been quiet

But I’ve been thinking about you, no one else: I guess lⁱve been shy

haven't spoken my mind

they told me not to,

told me it wasn't nice

for a girl;

told me not to drop the cross, not to climb the mountain, not to teach in church

but like you say, fuck ‘em

I don't care what people say

so come see about me

I can stay out late tonight

I want to come with you

be your biker chick, your angel, your new cross, a true cross ,a cross with breasts

I will soothe your Armageddon, your Jihad; I will be your avenging angel

I will be on your side this time

cause you are my vehicle baby

and the kingdom of heaven is mine on your wheels

let me be your cross

this time , next time, now:

I will raise an army call down jihad make your missiles rise make your scud blow

baby:

I will kick down the walls of your tomb

I will blow all hell

Satan’s slaves, I am your worst nightmare

this time next time now

raise an army for you

harrow hell and

find some roughnecks to kick down the walls of your tomb

listen centurion: the soul of a woman was created below now you know why

centurion, i am your worst nightmare

hell hath no fury like a woman whose man has been gone a long time

but that's all right, baby, I always believed in you I knew you would come back for your woman

I will not let you be crucified again.

Unlikely Stories Tribute Issue for Michelle Greenblatt

Unlikely Stories: Episode IV and Unlikely Books present DEVORAH: a tribute to Michelle Greenblatt, Editor and Friend, at http://www.unlikelystories.org/
We are grateful for the opportunity to remember Michelle with the contributors to this volume: Reed Alteums, Glen Armstrong, Lana Bella (Nia Nguyễn), John M. Bennett, Alexandria Bryan, Charles J. Butler, Wendy Taylor Carlisle, Vincent Cellucci, Joel Chace, Kimberly Rae Lorenz-Copeland, Maria Damon, Bryson Dean Gautier, Vernon Frazer, Alan Fyfe, Larry Goodell, Win Harms, mark hartenbach, Stephen Harrison, Carolyn Hembree, Cindy Sostchen-Hochman, Steffen Horstmann, Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, Dylan Krieger, Brian Kovich, Donna Kuhn, Jim Leftwich, Louise Landes Levi, James Lineberger, Dennis Mahagin, Peter Marra, Frankie Met, Alexis Moon (Alexis Phillips), MOO - Monika Mori, Sheila Murphy, Jay Passer, Annie Pluto, Marthe Reed, Gabriel Ricard, Alison Clockwise Cat Ross, Bernd Sauermann, Christopher Shipman, Larissa Shmailo, Jeffrey Side, Jay Sizemore, Felino A. Soriano, Jamie Stoneman, Ray Succre, Yuriy Tarnawsky, and Marc Vincenz.
DEVORAH was edited by Jonathan Penton, K.R. Copeland, Vernon Frazer, and Justin Herrmann.

LETTER TO LERMONTOV

You are distant, alone, and far on the horizon,

obscured, almost nurtured, by the ocean's fog.

Seeking and searching, you are always a stranger:

What did leaving me, losing me, cost?

I would swim with one foot on the sand of the dry land;

I would wait for you, never explore.

But you are the waves, and the wind and its whistle,

and the storm you embrace far from shore.

My few timid ships all cling to the shoreline

too frightened to leave what they know.

You laugh and command them: There is another shore;

the second appears when the first is gone.

So sing, my dear love, of the wide morning's gold sky,

and the call of the azure strand,

and the gull and the salt and the mast that pitches,

and the lure of a foreign land.

I will be your welcome, your country forever;

I'll receive, then release you (adieu).

I will be your native and nurturing homeland

and wait to be called home by you.