Mary Daly wrote a book…

in 1988, i was really studying hard and making a lot of progress understanding what had happened to me at birth, being marked “Man” just because i was male… lumping me in with the crimes and delusions of 10,000 years of males twisting themselves into Men. Mary Daly set a blaze to an entire architecture of patriarchal psychic conditioning and set me loose…  while at the same time i was continuing to hide from other, scarier truths… crossdressing alone indulging/purging, hiding/lying… simply not yet able to integrate the implications of what i was reading and learning…

i did experience a creative spurt as a result though… writing several songs and working with my friend Franko and our partners Christine and Pamela to record them in our studio shack…  this one never got put to music, but it was the impetus of the project we called called Withershins:

Withershins (Widdershins): “…in a direction that counters the processions of clockocracy/cockocracy; in a manner that grinds the doomsday clocks to a halt, that turns back the clocks of father time: Contrariwise: the Wrong Way”

— by Mary Daly, with Jane Caputi; ‘Webster’s First New Intergalactic Wickedary of the English Language’, 1987

Mary Daly wrote a book…

“he who has made us and never left us”
ritual words of ugly power
the drooling of snools
which is a name that the priests of Snooldom don’t know
do you?

Mary Daly wrote a book
like a bolt of be-juice, a wonder full
read once, saw through the Bull
word tricks that change what is
into how it looks

“in the beginning god created the heavens and the earth”
brazen usurper! shamelessly mad
masculine tumescence
dividual swelling, devouring, swallowing

Mary Daly wrote a book
take your blinders off, come and dance
read once, open the door and take a chance
word tricks don’t change what is
into how it looks

to claim to be The One, to name Him Man
to divide and conquer with a lie
the other is none if one is The One
word tricks, with words and guns
the rape is done

to you
Mary Daly wrote a book
Mary Daly cracked the monolith
Mary Daly sent a gift
to we

withershins, spinning in spiral bliss
on the hill in the moonlight in the mist
no map can contain them
nor compass fix them to a point
Mary Daly wrote a book

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