Watching The Exorcist A Month Before Trump’s Inauguration

It’s one of those movies I watch 

No matter what part it’s at  

And this time I catch it from the beginning:

The lull of a driving sequence  

Through a leafy suburban lane, only ominous because we know 

The horror that will soon juxtapose;

We are devastated, and so to be 

lured by leaf patterns into shadow

Into a darkness illuminated

by the light of a bedside lamp

gives my brain a rest 

From all I can’t 

wrap it around. In a few weeks

a former reality show host will be sworn in as President.

Watching a preadolescent girl get

possessed by a demon

Seems apt, watch what happens

when a malevolent force is let in

through the front door,

Knows where the children sleep,

is told every secret

regardless of whether or not

we have given consent.

He needs a female body to exist. 

Poor Linda Blair  

In the early stages of her possession,

baffling Ellen Burstyn by 

Urinating on the carpet. It’s not yet

to the pea soup or the bone crack. 

Soon, she’ll pant all trucker mouth

and flesh wounds 

Sizzling as holy water whips her limbs;

Mother’s still trying to figure out

What the fuck’s going on. 

And the demon’s just getting started

on his joyride through a young girl.

It’s still early enough in the movie

to hear Regan, 

she can still be heard 

inside of her body, not yet completely

taken over.

“Mother!” she screams, bloodcurdling. 

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