Ptolemy’s model followed geocentric principles
Earth as sun centre around which spheres rotate uniformly as ships in typhoons, along circles split like zodiac glyphs
At the epicentre the sun housing the earth
Divinely plotted prescribed orbits to fit solar alignments are called deferents
These are fenced and intersected by smaller circular orbits called epicycles
By such devices are heaven’s lights hoist to right places along the night gallery
A phalanx of fiery stars seen as a line when viewed from earth
Like unvisored cannons along the flank of a war galley all firing at once into the horizon
The souls of those who died rise as sprites
The devil sent tricks to whip the thick and dull their instincts
It is a new mediaeval, they attack the heliocentric model, believe ships sink
Off the brink of a flat disc world.
The model is never the territory, the map and land are different stories
Ptolemy’s model foremost considered the glory of Man and his god the Sun, those two somehow one when all is done, it is such around which the tale’s web is spun
Our model considers foremost man’s unimportance in grand schemes
Our old wisdoms mere wive’s tales, portents trusted by hex performers and kin-cavorting shameless Lemnians with shaved legs
They are all models, mere diorama
Miniature stage to play out our dramas
Ideas armour against truth that would harm us
Trauma for what we are inaptly armed for
Concepts like karma and dharma, the power of now, balm to salve the darker truths
Routes to the matted root womb of the world, where toothed, fanged darkness gnaws through its lurid tomb
Satanic banners unfurl in windless tunnels
A world without meaning, four walls barred windows and a crystal ceiling, rats running through runnels until sand runs out
We are Stymphalian birds overpreening feathers toxic to any passing mammalian creature featuring hunger, to pass time.
Alchemisland 
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