The Ballad of Wendy O

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Watching the WOW Concert, Live in London, 1985 with Wendy Orlean Williams in full pogo radical true soul feminist, environmental activist who knew the greenhouse effect was killing us in the 70’s who terrified Tom Snyder awake a veteran of 42nd Street sex shows annoyed by obscenity charges she made the first thrash album buried deep in a record volume of writhing maggots self-confessed exorcist, whose skunk mohawk repelled rapists and murderers exploder of used cars, mistress of the sledgehammer and the chainsaw, greatest destroyer of TV’s and electric guitars, sexual dervish massaging the enlarged prostate of the entire world relief and release pacifist, with an inability to turn the other cheek with spikes driven through her hands and feet she preached Maggots get down on your hands and knees and pledge allegiance to yourself whose duct-taped nipples conducted their own separate symphonies and destroyed televangelists with a wink bodies unmoored, adrift and flying always seek immersion, speed, sex, precision primal screams and maniacal cardio routines You are welcome to my entire empire of dirt & grease rock and roll is a chainsaw-wielding sprite in a leather bikini and bobby socks saying Fuck with me at your peril as all reluctant fundamentalism is obliterated Throw your body into the black Do not be blotted out by the night Hug the cactus and fight there are no mosquito nets no wall against the man-eating tiger drenched in power and unable to develop a happy ending Wendy spit, sat lotus in the Black Forest and positioned a bullet in her brain