John Francis Moore's and Neil Gaiman's "Poison Ivy" comic issue #1... Hillary Swank's "o what a rogue and peasant slave am I" speech soliquey in the shakesperian movie by copolla, "Poison Ivy"...

This Poison Ivy is Hamlet.. the dark prince Hamlet... the black prince Hamlet.. who reached into the darkness and pitch blackness of his own soul and found it wanting.. and preached to himself only humility except when he gave way to desperate, maniacal action.. This poison ivy is Hamlet, the black prince...


Poison Ivy: .. I am Loki.  And I always was Loki.  And the only Loki who ever was was me.. I was burned alive by acid underground when I was bound tight in cables which were the intestines of a wolf who they said was my son.. I was that Loki.. no other.. I was so clever.. I've always been clever.. but not clever enough not to prevent demons from repeatedly catching my soul in their netz like the nazz.. the nazz.. the nazz.. the nazz. the nazz has caught my soul.. I am crushed in a torture wheel.. the iron spokes rub against my flesh.. and when I speak I speak torment and torture and always speak it against myself, that it is always I who I am speaking to who enslaved myself, bound myself in tight-binding coils the very intestines of a wolf who they said was my son, imprisoned myself.. I did all this and I never get tired of telling myself that.. except their .. is somone else here.. a baby with zika.. or .. is it a pit-bull.. i'm SORRY.. i'm SORRY.. I think pit-bulls are adorable and so they remind me of the cutest babies with zika.. what I was muffed, like a muffin I was muted, snuffed out my brief speech like a candle, my candle was a speech that was snuffed out by the wick of my tongue.. my tongue had a candle flame upon it and it was snuffed out.. muted.. on mute.. on mute.. on mute.. I was mute when I needed to be speech and on speech when I spoke words of torture to the only person I ever speak to in the centuries I've been on this earth.. myself.. for I realized once.. when I had committed a horrific murder of a teenage girl.. that afterward.. I could not .. SAY .. anything to anyone.. it was like the walls of an Egyptian catacomb closing in around me.. this feeling emotion pitch-plumb dark womb warmth sensation of how I could no longer.. ever.. SAY anything to anyone.. and it was a SENSATION knowing this.. and henceforth forevermore I only spoke to myself.. the woman who had enslaved me, caked me with mud and brick ceramics and burned me in an oven, imprisoned and bound me, the woman who did this to me, only myself, only myself, only myself.. I am still bare naked here as I stand in a swamp and say these.. word.. to.. a .. baby.. with.. ..

                        ........
                            ........ zika...

                                    .. ssssKSKIISYEYEYEYEYEYEYIIIIIEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!... burrnnnnn

              Poison ivy, you have betrayed the green and now it will make of you a little eaten thing before it spits spews you out of your mouth for only having been lukewarm...

             .. I always felt like my face my cheek was castrated when the green-purple acid tore into it and tore it's flesh like an unwoven fabric of frail, threadbare cloth.. praised be right cheek discipline..

       script by John Francis Moore and Neil Gaiman..

     art by ed benes...