Alchemisland

Nigredo, I upbraid the man I cast

I cast out the shadowed mass

My shadow falls, alas, comes back

Tracking decomposition, hunter hunts death itself

A dose in the jungle, wretch-racked death of self

My hurt’s eagle zenith an eyrie eerie pyramid

Deep deep deep below Lake Moeris my soul fins it hands

Finds its lands, my chest swells like a mono-bit gland

Salt in a ring around the shoebiting shores of Mono Lake

Salt in a pentagram shape around the area of the rite

Peer a minute at what you wouldn’t normally

Formally engage the monolith, oily black stone like a Sith

Cape girdling an obelisk

I feel a rustling and below the ground Jung’s throned phallus

Straddled, grinded on like the raw, by a ophidian odalisque

Born of a Jejune Jesuit, Joyce’s daughter rejoyce, she drowns but you have choice

At Finnegan’s Wake the song said they had much fun

As much cannot be said for the book

The bookmarks are on page five but they say they are done

I have never worn a bridle, oft disrespected my bridal other, sidling over to cut her

Smothering each other smouldering at hug of long murder

If the Father was once his Son and that Son will become his Father

New testament becomes the old, then again everything starts over

If those dead sages above the altar are in reality forms yet unborn

We have yet to discern His moving spirit and shadow deeps adorn

We have yet to see flame-armed angels casting out the rebels

We have yet to see the serpent cast, snaking ever on his belly

We have yet to hear the whaled man weep for lost Nineveh

We have yet to see his brief holy death tear apart forever

My soul’s sablest night, the ablest knight’s Christmas gambit and green chapel

My soul’s fright manifest terrifying, my Lillith my Eve and my waxy green apple

I who never once went hungry want neither to die nor go without

Coffin corpseless filled with coffers, rare grease to ring my mouth

Freed of mortal desires and fix my mortal wounds

Rot back to what I was, replace me in the womb.