Near the eyrie of a minaret from where mage-capped ziggurats are miniscule
Teacher pupil school:
Fisher hauls in his net
His son grabs one end to help
A hundred mackerel a cast eye assumes.
Up here flies zooming like flying carpets, city rotting carapace of a dog carcass
Catacombs to ark ever-mounting bones resemble halls of torment
Wide-sleeved chief of that people, ‘erefore Saracens, strides a serefe free of adornment
He looks East and then West, his mudra’d hands at chest in solemn adoration
Below dusty streets, where thirsty dervishes once thought to praise termagant
Steep to the sebil to drink, they lie as the dead sleep along the Lethe
Reposed creased into themselves or frozen in grief
Final tears diamond creeks on cheeks
The bells cease activities, bring to knees the faithful
Their primary tenets convey a distinct love and charity, wrongly thought hateful.
Lathe of the world bathed in pale fire, underside of a spinning pearl
Who can observe it unconverted, its cavorting perverts the universe
It performs for us, an aura of dust and crushed adoring things flank it like wings
Porous as verse, so much potential it hurts, it derides verbs, curves
Of the world’s convex chest impressed on the cornea, the world’s hidden subtext
Arresting written across breasts of forbidden midnight smitten the fangbitten
Rouse at midnight to do darkbidding, inside of lid of night, what is lack of light but day’s lidded eye
All the light the sun smiles into the world is twisted into a guile in the wild night
Repeatedly one star flashes, the batting eyelids of some long dead thing nervously blinking
Lear upon the blasted heath lifts up his hate as an African maid ferries water well to plate.
Spied her light-dotted through the eyes of her mashrabiya, sun-besotted courtyard loud with heartsong
Her Father leered a moment, jeered lovely odes open-throated, before appearing like a fiend
He defies description, Egyptian with foppish hair, a gypsy or hotelier air about him, green
With envy at such unseemly courting of his potential queen, dream past him as if an angel’s beam fixed.
The cross affixed me begins afflicting me, I barely rise from my third trip
When I am crowned, I feel blood dripping as ripping thorns gouge craters in my nouncreator
Leaks into my eye, INRI inscribed on cheap papyrus and strung up with twine, betwixt
Sinners the divine son suffers the searing sun, wishing himself dead.
Her Father has her on a leash, he is a liege lord of the first order, threatens to slaughter
Who would claim his daughter’s maidenhead, he will be lain dead and fed to eagles and eager jackals
He will not hesitate to do evil, he will leave warning corpses around his estate
Purple zelliges seizure-inducing, friezes depicting tropical oases far out amidst sand seas
Mounds from old fantasies, red and barren as far galaxies, which Djinn frequent
When the sun is spent frigid night descends in world-ending darkness, rending the unwary who left splendours untended
Nomadic Magi forbidden to practise magic know Irish faeries and mushroom rings are merely Djinn by another name, same as Solomon came by with his ring.
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