For Her Without a Nose

You saw it, so did I, we all did,

We all saw it, not quite believing,

Who could believe it? No one could…

No one. Cause quite frankly it was

Unbelievable… That… That… That

Human beings could do such a thing…

Could carry out such an act…

Such a bestial, such a horrible

Thing… That human beings,

Only by name mind you, only by name.

Nothing human in them except… Remotely.

Since savage dogs do such things, only

Savage… wild… filthy, stinking,

Vicious hyenas… or… ok… human trained dogs

Could do such a thing, such an unbelievable,

Dastardly, such a noxious, such a bestial,

Such a monstrous thing!

What? You ask, what? What is it? This thing,

That is almost, almost impossible to say,

To write, to set down, to record,

To give voice to, to put into words,

To speak… no words should shape those

Abominations, no lips should give them sound,

You can’t, you really just can’t,

You saw it. In the papers… that’s where you saw it,

That’s where you saw it,

Your stomach turned over, your heart swelled

And skipped a beat, your soul writhed

And shrieked, acid trickled into your mouth, but

You couldn’t give words to it… could you?

You could only point, just point… Just say

To whoever is within your hearing,

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! My God!

Look… look at this… yuk!

Oh my fucking Christ, look at this!

What fucking, holy mother of Christ!

What disgusting, loathsome, subhuman beast…

But you couldn’t find words for it

Could you? Eh? Could you?


You know what I am talking about?

Of course you do, you know, you know really,

Cause you saw it, you saw it, and what you saw

You cannot name, cannot describe… ever…

Just point, just, if you can, point… say…

Look at this… this… this thing, this is,

This is… the words come hard, even the words

On the edge of the event… not the thing itself

Just the stain at the edge.


Of the puddle of blood, just

Clues to the vile act… You see it’s so hard,

So hard to say, for what you say, you bring

It all to life, but you have to… for her,

For this her, this woman, you have to, for

That woman whose face, whose once beautiful face

A beautiful woman’s face, moulded, shaped, sculptured

Over time immemorial to arrive at such perfection

After such a time when centuries fell like leaves,

Until she, this woman arrived here,

With her intelligent beautiful face.

That she had, that she, this woman

This lovely young and perfect woman

Hand-made by the fingers of God with all

Those fine elements that define what

It is to be human, that perfect symmetry

And grace, that she had until… some low, fetid,

Stinking human rat, but no sound, even

Those sucked up from the bogs of hell

From the slimy drains and ducts of hell,

Could ever fit you, could ever

Describe the crawling abomination that is man. Man,

Is that not foul enough? Yes, that must do,



So this is what the picture says,

It shows what is inside the soul of

Man who lives in hell, it shows his mighty works

For amongst the whispering butterflies, amongst,

The dazzling creatures of the sea.

Amongst all that is wondrous, and divine,

Amongst the swift and dazzling cheetah, the

Heaven soaring eagle, the intrepid flying fox,

The gargantuan singing whale, lay the anomaly

Of man.

He grips his filthy knife and cuts off

The nose, that’s what he does, he

Chops, he slashed off her nose, her beautiful,

Her tender woman’s nose, as punishment for

Wishing to escape from this filthy man / beast

For wishing to escape his filthy stink,

His sour breath, his dull and stupid speech

His filthy fingers, his raw scabrous tongue,

His idiot’s eyes, his belchy devils stomach,

His idiots chatter, his nighttime stench,

So he cuts off her nose, to prove to himself

He can be as foul, as sinister and as loathsome

As she could ever dare to believe.

So now there us a hole in the centre of her face,

That’s what he did, that’s what we saw,

That’s what the picture shows, that’s what is

So hard to speak, but so very necessary to speak

What are these men who can hold a young woman

Down, are they from the sperm of Satan, what stinking effluvium

Runs through their veins, what sewage was their mother’s milk?

And who will stop them?


Yes, a man did this and doesn’t that shame us

To be called a man? Doesn’t it?


Your time will come mister, your time will come,

And when you least expect it your time will come

Or every foul act you will reap

A thousand fold,

For every cruel and most unnatural act

You perpetrate you will tighten

The cords of the world’s hate

Around your throat until your breath

Is squeezed out drop by drop

And what is left is just some foul junk,

Too foul even for the earth which shuddering

Vomits it out, but then the vultures will

Come, for them you’ll be rancid a snack!


Steven Berkoff




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