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“the Robot Zombie Witch Girl”

Janet Kuypers

    THIS IS MY CURSE. How many demons am I supposed to fight? How many barricades to progress am I supposed to either find a way around or physically break down with the palms of my hands? I know no one believes me & keeps shoveling the tasks for me to do into a heap in front of me, & keeps shoveling the mounds of loose rock & top soil over my casket, waiting to bury me. But I’m like one of those zombies in those bad black & white b horror movies that doesn’t seem to die & keeps coming back, I’m one of those zombies lacking all color & having orbs for eyes, with arms outstretched, letting you know that I’m very slowly, with my right foot draped in torn gauze, that I’m very slowly coming back, that somehow, I’ll make it back to haunt you. This is my curse.

    THE PROBLEM is, with that bad right foot & all that gauze & that zombie walk I have to do when my legs are straight, I feel like one of those buxom zombie witches with long straight black hair & my feet thunk on the ground & my one foot drags & I’m in this long black dress & all that gauze from my foot is dragging behind me & it’s so unattractive & I can never make a surprise entrance.

    I THINK THAT’S THE WHOLE PROBLEM with being a zombie girl who dresses in black & keep coming back: unlike an angel, my wounds don’t get better & I’m walking around with bandages & I leave a blood trail behind me, even when I try to clean up the mess I’ve made. It makes this undying zombie-girl want to find religion so a god can come along and save me from all of this. I look for crosses in everything, I look for the meaning in everything & I try to get poetic & I just fumble with the masses & wonder if they all think like me, that nothing makes sense. So, I can’t seem to wax poetic & I can’t seem to get religious & I’m left just as lost as I was before, &I’m dressed in black & I’m losing blood and... and Hell, I don’t know what else, I just know that I look depressing & keep coming back, so don’t be surprised, it’s just me again.

Chicago poet Janet Kuypers
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