THE INITIATE
我赤身裸体，手脚并用，沿着走廊爬向焚化炉。我浑身燥热，汗流浃背，脖子上的皮带勒得我喘不过气来；我渴望被焚烧。我的主人，那个警察，正用他的钢爪掐着我的后背。我能感觉到他的五只爪子。每只爪子都在我的肉体上留下了一条条独立的沟壑。他紧紧地抓住皮带，当我反抗时，他就会拉扯脖子上的锁链。他朝我吼叫：“快走，狗！爬！受伤！”他大喊时，大嘴张得大大的。腐臭而沉重的气体从他的胃里涌出，在我的头顶形成一团云雾。他的内脏散发着胆汁般的饥饿味。我渴望被焚烧，渴望闻到自己燃烧时皮肉燃烧的味道。走廊在左右摇晃。警察的喊叫声，撞击着墙壁，然后猛地砸进我的脑袋里。我能听到自己的呼吸声。它被放大了一百倍。那是机械野兽吐出的蒸汽。我的呼吸回流到我身上，将我碾压在水泥地上。我一动不动。我失去了力气。我的胳膊和腿都瘫软了。我的头侧躺在滚烫的水泥地上，舌头露在嘴外。我的舌头肿了起来，随时可能爆裂。我抬起头。警察正低头看着我，焚化炉的火焰映在他的眼里。他用靴子轻轻地弹了弹我的舌头，脸上带着一丝笑意，装作同情的样子。我努力把舌头缩回嘴里，好发出声音。我想道歉，想让他相信我正在努力恢复体力。我想被烧死。他举起了靴子。我感觉我的舌头被砸成了肉酱。焚化炉在咆哮。警察的脸是深橙色的。他身后的墙上映出巨大的影子，他一边打我，一边挥舞着手臂，直到头顶。当我醒来时，我被绳子吊在镜子前。我一丝不挂。我的生殖器被切掉了。“匍匐”两个字被刻在我的胸口。我恨我的身体。我不想看它。我想转过头，却做不到：我脖子上的筋被切断了。我想闭上眼睛，却做不到：我的眼皮要么被强行打开，要么被切除了。我恨我的思想。我恨我的身体。我被困在里面，盯着自己的尸体。我的呼吸声对我来说是一种折磨。我试图停止呼吸。我做不到。我无法摆脱自己。几个警察走了进来。他们围着我站成半圆形，讨论着我肉体的形状和轮廓。其中一个从口袋里掏出一把刀，从我的大腿上切下一块肉。他们把肉递给每个人，轮流品尝。我很高兴他们吃掉我。最终，我会消失。当我消散时，它们会变得更加强大。我感觉自己正融入它们之中。
（1984）
原文
I’m naked, on my hands and knees, crawling down the hallway towards the incinerator. I’m boiling, I’m sweating, the leash around my neck is choking me; I want to burn. My master, the cop, is digging into my back with his steel claws. I feel all five of them. Each claw makes a separate canal in my flesh. He’s holding the leash tight, pulling the choker when I rebel. He’s shouting down at me: “Move, dog! Crawl! Hurt! …” His big mouth opens wide when he shouts. Stale, heavy gas comes up from his stomach and forms a cloud around my head. His guts smell like bilious hunger. I want to burn, and smell my flesh burning as I burn. The hallway is shifting sideways. When the cop shouts, it knocks against the walls then slams into my head. I can hear my breathing. It’s amplified a hundred times. It’s the breath of a mechanical beast exhaling steam. My breath comes back at me and grinds me into the concrete floor. I stop moving. I’ve lost strength. My arms and legs have collapsed. My head’s resting sideways on the hot concrete, my tongue hanging out of my mouth. My tongue’s swollen, ready to burst. I look up. The cop’s looking down at me, the fire from the incinerator reflected in his eyes. He flicks lightly at my tongue with his boot, smiling, showing mock compassion. I try to pull my tongue back into my mouth so I can form words. I want to apologize, assure him that I’m trying to get up strength. I want to burn. He raises his boot. I feel my tongue smashed into a pulp. The incinerator’s roaring. The cop’s face is deep orange. His shadow on the wall behind him is huge, the arms swinging down onto his head as he beats me. When I wake up, I’m suspended by ropes in front of a mirror. I’m naked. My genitals have been cut away. The word “crawl” has been carved into my chest. I hate my body. I don’t want to look at it. When I try to turn my head away, I can’t: the tendons in my neck have been cut. When I try to close my eyes, I can’t: my eyelids have either been forced open or removed. I hate my mind. I hate my body. I’m trapped staring at my carcass. The sound of my breathing is torture. I try to stop breathing. I can’t. I can’t escape myself. Several policemen come in. They stand around me in a semi-circle, discussing the shape and contours of my flesh. One of them takes a knife from his pocket and carves a slice of meat from my thigh. They pass it around, each one tasting it turn. I’m happy to have them eating me. Eventually I’ll disappear. As I dissipate, they’ll grow stronger. I feel myself pouring into them.
(1984)