Serial Killers and Poetry: A Method to the Madness
By Anthony Servante
Author of Killers and Horror: Ink Black, Blood Red (2013)
The academic adage for analyzing poetry says that the poem must stand alone; the poet’s explanations for his words cannot be taken into account, nor can the poet’s relationship to his family and friends be considered, and, lastly, the poet’s place and time in history must be ignored.
But what if the poet is a serial killer? How does the academic proceed? Does he consider the metaphors of his poems to the manner that he killed? Should he consider his relationship to his victims (rape, torture, etc)? Does the killer’s history of child abuse and bullying find a place in the critique of his poetry? The answer is quite simple. We are not reviewing the poetry of writers. We are looking at the workings of the mind of a murderer.
We are not so much critiquing poetry as much as we are organizing evidence of an insane mind. With these intentions, we shall be approaching the poems of three serial killers: the Zodiac Killer, Joseph Kallinger, and Israel Keyes,. We shall be profiling each poem to piece together the madness behind the words.
When the killers are caught, these writings are analyzed by legal and psychiatric experts to gather evidence against the murderers at their trial, so we need not go over that same profiling territory. We wish to critique the poems in and of themselves as art from the minds of madmen.
Let’s begin with the Zodiac Killer.
The Zodiac Killer (Identity Unknown).
The Profile:
The Zodiac, as he referred to himself, was a serial murderer who was never caught. He terrorized Northern California in the late Nineties. He taunted the authorities with cryptic letters sent mainly to the press. His killings, threats, and correspondence continued into the late Seventies.
In 1966, a poem carved into the underside of a folding desk at the Riverside City College was found by a college maintenance man. The police were called in. The poem, titled "Sick of living/unwilling to die" was attributed to the Zodiac by experts after ruling out the possibility that it may have been written by a suicidal student.
Authorities believed that the poem alluded to Cheri Jo Bates, 18, a murder victim who attended the college. A letter from the Zodiac to the Los Angeles Times congratulated the police on making the connection between the Zodiac and Bates. More taunting letters, some keeping score, such as “Zodiac 17 [the number of alleged victims], SFPD (San Francisco Police Department) 0”, until the killings stopped and he disappeared into the unsolved files of police investigators.
Here is the poem in its entirety as seen on the desk and in my transcript form.
http://www.zodiackiller.com/ZPoem.html
(picture of poem on desk can be placed here).
The Poem:
Sick of living/unable to die
cut,
clean,
if red I
clean.
blood spurting,
dripping,
spilling;
all over her new
dress.
oh well,
it was red
anyway.
life draining into an
uncertain death,
she won’t
die.
this time
Someone ll find her.
just wait till
next time.
Rh
The Critique:
The Zodiac recounts a moment when his victim was succumbing to her wounds, a state between “life” and “uncertain death”. He knows he will kill her, but in his mind, he wonders how she must be clinging to the hope of surviving the ordeal. For him it is a moment that is important because it represents his own frame of mind (note the title, “Sick of living/unable to die“, describes a conflicted attitude: He hates life, and yearns for death).
Ironically, he finds death by killing his victims. But the moment before his victim dies, that moment where they pray they a miracle might save their life, the Zodiac empathizes with their prayer, only his is for the miracle of death, an end to his “sick” life. Here he taunts the police to “wait till next time”, that is, that next moment when his victim will face that desperate last plea to live and he wills the police to put an end to his life. “Someone[‘ll] find her, but when, he wonders, will the authorities find him?
It is a cliché that criminals yearn to be caught. Bad boys seek to be punished. Here, however, the Zodiac embodies the stereotype. The poem begins with a description of the killing: “cut,/clean,/if red I/clean./blood spurting,/ dripping,/spilling”. But then it shifts to an empathetic observation that is as morose as it is maudlin: The blood spills “all over her new/dress./oh well,/it was red/ anyway.” He shows a glimpse of concern over soiling her dress, but quickly dismisses the concern when he realizes the blood will match the color of the dress. But that moment of “concern” turns inward to his own desire to die, for he is not wearing red, he is “unable to die”.
Although the Zodiac writes of his victim, he is reflecting on his own martyrdom to a life of mental illness, a life of killing others because he cannot kill himself, and neither the authorities nor death itself will put him out of his misery. Without closure, he continued to taunt the Grim Reaper, seeking out more victims, fueling the vicious cycle of insanity.
Joseph Kallinger (The Shoe Maker).
The Profile:
Joseph Kallinger killed for God. He told the cobbler to torture and murder young boys. He manipulated his thirteen year old son, Michael, to help him find victims. His murder spree began in 1974 and continued till 1975, when he was apprehended after the murder of the 21 year old Maria Fasching. Besides young boys, Kallinger and his son tricked their way into four households, where they beat, tortured, robbed, raped, and killed members of the four famiies. Joseph was convicted of murder and given 40 years for the robberies and a life sentence for the murder of Fasching. In prison, Kallinger attempted suicide but botched each attempt. He was moved to a State Hospital for the criminally insane. He was diagnosed as schizophrenic, which probably explains his conversations with God. Joseph continued to believe he was ordered by God to kill everyone, including himself. He died in 1994 from a heart attack.
The Poems:
MY DOUBLE
though a window of the ward
shines a sunray
my double and the woman,
death's dancers,
glide
though the motes of dust
sparkling on the shoulders
of his dark coat, on the blood
flowing from her belly.
from window to wall
they glide through the sunray
slowly
in time to the unheard music
of the knife in my double's hand
going in and out of the woman's
belly
her screams silent counterpoint to the
silent voice of the knife,
devilish music for an unredeemable.
my double looks like me
I look like him
but we are not each other
he is my fear and my master:
in the unheard music I hear
his command to kill, to pluck out
eyes, cut breasts, slice bellies,
testicles and penises, rip
vaginas.
he is the delegate of God
bringing the day of wrath
bringing the day of doom
to mankind
though me
(delegate of a delegate)
when I shall become the God of Glory.
Sept 11, 1982
CHARLIE
he's after me, riding air currents
like an angry balloon
floating, his long hair is parted in front
curled back at the sides. his mean brown eyes
stare at me, pin me to the wall
where i wriggle.
(i cannot free myself from charlie)
he has no body and below his eyes his faceless face is'
just a tight tissue of skin wrapped around jawbones
rounding in a fleshy chin.
(i cannot free myself from charlie)
bodiless rider, he rides thunderbolts in Hell
with the Devil sings doom songs
through his mouthless face
then comes to me with bloody instructions
(his favorite word is kill)
but charlie is real, like you and me
someday i'm going to waste him
someday i'm going to kill him
someday i'm going to puncture him
with a knife
he'll shrivel like an airless balloon.
but maybe charlie's going to kill me first
at night i lie with one eye open
(i cannot free myself from charlie)
Sept 10, 1982
The Critiques:
Just as the Zodiac projected his victim’s suffering on his own sick psyche, Joseph Kallinger blames allayed transference to the presence of a separate persona in his mind. This split personality attributed Joseph’s urge to kill for God and a “floating head” that told him what to do. In these two poems, THE DOUBLE and CHARLIE, Kallinger captures the dualistic nature of his thoughts, those schizophrenic voices residing in his mind like real people there to advise and guide him.
One must consider here that a schizophrenic personality does not know it is sick. The voices to a split persona are real. Sometimes they are more real than the “real” voices of the victims, family and friends, and certainly, the doctors and the authorities. After all, voices that would contradict the voice of God must be Satan’s spawn or evil heathens. So, as we consider these poems, we must keep in mind that Kallinger is not describing the illness of an insane mind, but the daily workings of a normal mind.
In the first poem, we note that his “double” is the killer; he himself is but the instrument of the murders and other vicious crimes of which he was convicted. Here we also find more conventional uses of poetic device. Note the alliteration and use of stanzas to state a complete idea. The words are clear and maintain a sane voice as he describes an insane mind. The act of murder is written as a “dance” for “Death”, an anthropomorphic deity, the dancers comprised of the killer and the victim: “my double and the/ woman,/death's dancers,/glide/though the motes of dust/
sparkling on the shoulders/of his dark coat“. The “silence” of the dance represents the thought processes of Kallinger, his own quiet mind taking instructions from “Death”; note the muted nature of his metaphor for the act of murder played out like a “silent” ballet: “unheard music/of the knife in my double's hand/going in and out of the woman's
belly/her screams silent counterpoint/to the silent voice of the knife”. He is an observer of the murder, painting it poetically, as if he were not involved.
As an observer, Kallinger can separate his “double” from himself, but he cannot maintain the separation and must involve himself to keep the narrative moving. Note: “my double looks like me/I look like him/but we are not each other/he is my fear and my master”. The use of “I” and “my” interjects him into the act, but this admission is too much to accept, so he returns to his projected “self”, the “Death” figure as the representative of God: “he is the delegate of God/bringing the day of wrath/bringing the day of doom/to mankind/though me/(delegate of a delegate)”. Now between “he” (the double, or the killer) is separated from “me” (Kallinger as observer) by “God”. Each time Kallinger realizes he is a killer, that there is no “double”, he turns to that powerful presence that controls him. Thus, we have a three-voiced schizophrenic: Kallinger the bystander, Kallinger the killer, and Kallinger the “delegate” of God.
He wraps up the poem with a convenient scapegoat for his crimes and a rationale for his killings. He is God. Note the final line: “I shall become the God of Glory”. The “double”, the “he” in the poem, has disappeared, replaced by the “I”, first person, the observer who now takes center stage in the narrative. His “double” is now God. And thus we have the struggle in his twisted mind, juggling personas, blaming that “other” guy and acknowledging “Death” as a third presence in the murders of his victims. He cannot simply say, I killed them, even in this poetry; although the poem itself binds the three personas to the writer, and by implication, his admission of a “double” and a “delegate” is as close to a confession as we can get from this sick and confused mind.
CHARLIE, our second poem by Joseph Kallinger, echoes the premise of the first: that the “I”, the “he”, and “God” are all personas of the same person, namely, the writer. Here the “he” is Charlie, a combination of corporeal parts and ethereal imagination: Charlie “has no body”, yet he possesses a “mouthless face” (note the reference to “silence” again), “long hair”, “brown eyes”, “a faceless face” (he has a face without features). Here we must separate Charlie from Kallinger himself; in this sense, he is “dancer” from MY DOUBLE—only in this poem, Kallinger separates his body from his mind. Charlie is the body, Kallinger, the mind. Which is why he “cannot free myself from Charlie”. The body controls the mind in this instance.
Note that the poem does not employ a capital “I”, the mind of Kallinger; he uses the small “i” throughout. This usage supports that “charlie” is in control, not the capital “I”. Once he accepts this, he can attribute the killings to Charlie: “(his favorite word is kill)”. And here Charlie becomes “real,/like you and me”. With the introduction of the second person “you” (or the reader in this case, the victims in his mind, the “you’s” of the world, Kallinger has positioned himself (the “me” persona) with his own victims. Thus what follows is logical in his sick mind: “someday i'm going to kill him,” “but maybe charlie's going to kill me first”. In fact, if the killer Kallinger (“charlie”) is caught, the police might just shoot and kill Kallinger the observer, so “charlie” just might kill “him”.
In CHARLIE, Kallinger is more ensconced in his corporeal body that commits the murders. His mind, the floating spirit that gives voice (think small “i”) to the narrative of the poem, is a victim “like you and me”. He sleeps with “one eye open” so “charlie” won’t kill him. So, Kallinger is keeping an eye on himself, admitting that “charlie” (Kallinger himself in a separate persona) and “he” are the same person, the same mind. Thus, the final line takes on new meaning as this is his confession, the indirect cry for help: “(i cannot free myself from charlie)”. In other words, he cannot stop himself from killing.
Israel Keyes (The Alaska Killer).
The Profile:
Israel Keyes killed from the late 1990s to 2012, when he was apprehended. He murdered so many victims that two years after his suicide in jail, authorities are still seeking information that can lead to more victims of Keyes. On his nearly ten year murder spree, the twenty-something serial killer robbed banks, burglarized homes, raped countless women, and committed arson. His murder of Samantha Koenig led to his arrest after he successfully convinced authorities that Koenig was still alive and would remain so if his ransom demands were met. They were. But Keyes was discovered after using Koenig’s ATM card. He hanged himself and slashed his wrists three months before his trial set for March 2013.
The Poem:
Untitled
"You are my love at first sight,
and though you're scared to be near me,
my words penetrate your thought
now in an intimate prelude."
"Your face framed in dark curls like a portrait,
the sun shone through highlights of red.
What color I wonder,
and how straight will it turn
plastered back with the sweat of your blood.
"Your wet lips were a promise
of a secret unspoken, nervous laugh
as it burst like a pulse of blood
from your throat.
There will be no more laughter here."
The Critique:
Israel Keyes wrote a love poem for his victim. He perceives the object of his murder to be a love interest. But this is not the dictionary definition of “love”. We can replace the word “love” for “target of my murder” and maintain the same result of the poem. “Love at first sight” is Keyes’ choosing this particular girl for death. The victim is “afraid to be near” him, for she knows what he plans to do to her. Hereafter, he describes the crime as an act of lovemaking: his words of “love” represent his promise to kill her whispered in her ear like a lover in “an intimate prelude” to the act of sex.
As he continues his sick metaphor for “love” (murder), he describes the “face” of his victim like a “portrait”. Keyes writes his words almost as if in a state of arousal; this poem is not just a play on words—they reflect his sick frame of mind. We especially see this reflection as his romantic notion of the girl switches to the victim’s “curls” “plastered back with the sweat” of her blood. He has stabbed her or cut her. Behind the poetry, there is a murder at play.
The victim must have laughed when he whispered to her, a “nervous laugh”. This triggered Keyes to cut her throat. He writes: “it burst like a pulse of blood/from your throat”. Here we must sweep away the poetry to see the words that describe a spray of blood after he slit her neck, killing her. In his romantic parlance, the honeymoon is over; the foreplay is done, for the victim giggled in fear for her life and Keyss, no doubt in anger, murdered her. The poetry ends and Keyes emerges from the false veneer of romantic imagery when he coldly sneers: “There will be no more laughter here.” In the end, his warped mind could not maintain the sick metaphor for murder.
In our examination of our three serial killers, we find a commonality of diseased perspectives, namely, an insanity that does not recognize itself, even as it consumes them. The Zodiac understands the vicious cycle of his own tortured life, Kallinger grasps the separation of his schizophrenic selves, but succumbs to it, and Keyes imagines himself a creative mind, when, in fact, he is beyond the reach of sanity. Three warped minds here. And the poetry to back it up.
