Friday the 13th: An Ode to Mrs. Voorhees

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Friday the 13th: An Ode to Mrs. Voorhees

In honor of Friday the 13th, resident poet Nigel Parkin pens a piece celebrating the madness of Pamela Voorhees

An Ode to Mrs. Voorhees

This rictus grin has stayed on my face these

Past twenty years, like the shining surface

Of that lake in the moonlight, hiding all

The darkness beneath, the choking, the screams,

The wild thrashing and angry, urgent cries

Of someone sinking in the black water

Of time, breathing in years of grief

Until their lungs burst, head swells, eyes bulge, fixed

And frozen and fossilized by my rage.

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That lake. Look. Look at its face. Calm, smiling,

Drawing you in, saying, ‘Trust me. I’ll look

After you,’ before grabbing you, dragging

You down, pulling, tearing, pounding, crushing,

A force of destruction, single-minded,

Taking great delight in the art of death.

It took my Jason, taught me all I know

About killing, about how to handle

The need to kill, how to go about it.

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I carry the lake with me, its secrets,

Its hunger, its power, its heart, the still

Beating heart of my boy. He’s inside me,

Waiting, ready to rise up from the depths,

Calling instructions in a broken voice

From my weed-wrapped soul. ‘Kill them all, Mommy!’

Yes, Jason! Oh yes, I will! I’ve begun!

That girl this morning, who was she kidding?

Did she think it looked modest to cover

Her chest with that orange top underneath

The unbuttoned shirt? Modest, my ass! Hell!

It was there to catch eyes! To tempt! To lure!

She was heading to the camp for one thing,

The thing that brings them all, that got you killed!

Well I’ll stop them. Just like I stopped her!

You liked hearing her beg me didn’t you?

I heard you chuckling! And when I showed her

The knife I heard your sweet, gleeful whisper –

‘Go on, Mommy! Do it! Open her throat!

I want to see blood!’ I did it for you

Didn’t I, darling? Tonight there’ll be more.

So, my beautiful, restless, rotting boy,

Come. I’ll give you a night to remember…

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