Eastern Dreams of Sand-Strewn Elysium

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.

Leave a comment