Bought an evil doll
She feigned to borrow
Then stole a soul
Swallowed whole
Black hole maw gnawing
On one’s immortal spirit.
Muse, tell through me the facepaling tale of the living fetish
Fetch me apt words I might out wretched scripts ripped from the crypt-heart of hell where cryptarchs rest for chiliarches awaiting the final march
From thy horseloud marches with cloud-longing unguarded skies, past cryptid-guarded arches
Pierce meshes betwixt that I might by writing exodise feelings which drive me to dementedness
Cross with me the Styx, drink with me this smoke-coiled admix
Grant me the lyrics of Orpheus, when my wrist flicks
Let every word fit perfectly, that pleasing pictures flee unto thee
Let phrase report loudly
Let pages contort like wet clod beneath horse
Lend the familiar strangeness, turn every red vermillion
Let my unsettled pen’s fury loose Norns from yarn turning
Elate my merest meekest statements to glow like stately odes
Make my cloak purple as my prose grows in sight of you, a liar’s nose
Rotating sworls creating
Along quare vortices hurtling
Those wonderful buttery words you whisper into my earpiece
They flee like the long-confined when freed but when I cannot screed they burn inside me, lend me such urgency
Let questing aureate beams effulge thee obscenely
Lend chrysostomos tonguehoney enough to forcefully dispel Thomas’ doubt, Queen Bee
With free-flowing key-like energy unlock the bolted ceilings which seal in the sorties of muttered prayers
Let a great sorting conclude with a scroll of perfect sentences, the most fitting verbs and furtive of phrases evoking the archaic and arcane
Lend me the million minds of a man insane, bale thy ivorytowerhand and fingers to a fist and shower with eager rain the sand grains in my grail.
She came to be
Many centuries
Thence came to he
Only fragments remain, dreams recollected years after hatching, speaking of her mother’s womb’s fomenting
Seeds of evil planted in the pit of a right hand, lantern of the sun held in the left
Nurtured at sour, veined Willendorf breasts
Starved until distressed, given heads and chests of wood invested with hatred for others, and for love and brotherhood
Agape will be left agape
It is never right but that night they were too frightened to act
Capering among braziers, cavorting in mooneked manure
Fires tapering fighting back night black as a tapeback
Fiendhorns like ribbed rapiers scraping high branches, his cape shifting as he raped her upon the altar
Deep rooted devil trees where on primaeval eves, Eves of evil east of Eden were burdened with flesh-greedy children, and this was one.
In Gabon of the savannahs, itself west of Congo, in view of the Atlantic
He first caught sight of her in a shamans bazaar in Etéké, north of Ndende and west of Mimongo
Perhaps lulled to indulgence by romantic scenes as stood before
As from stories dipped in dreams
Storefronts raised from nail-ridden boards, signs with flaking paint
Fruits he had never seen before, papained meat
Strained berry drinks strange tasting and capped with foam, like waves
Without constraint, without the least strain to coffers
Pulled out his wallet and bid a maven proffer her oddest oddments and curios from the orient to awe the occident on the home continent
Over which a curious audience might appreciatively fawn, fingerstaining glass cases
Perhaps even lapsing into clapping to applaud a strange thing from abroad.
What she ordered brought forth was foreign in the sense that its style was divorced utterly from those in fashion, those girls played with, yet it lacked some exotique to speak of its antipodicity
The history of the object, she explained through his interpreter, is unique and shocking, especially for a western audience
More goods fetched, a turbaned servant ferrying boxes on his back like an ass
His hand lopped off at wrist, theft’s price in his land of Mitzic
Yet his eyes tracked backward to the doll, haunted by a busy hollowness about it
Her twisted visage a fiend’s cracked mirror faintly endures, injurious presence
Her eyes witness to dark deeds, those eyes:
Beady black a scything shark’s sighter, caudal fin ferries it to sin
Same toothedsmile guile one might sight as fangs pry apart safety cage bars
Like Dr Dee’s aztec scrying mirror
Light-swallowing pits of horror, swirling black like hurricaning squidink, a frostbitten volcano’s toes.
When placed on her shelf, her upward bending head began trending downwards
Her delving eyes, nouns divers could not describe the urge to smite her there and then, yet he did not
Instead taking his pen expends venom through vellum
Soon enveloped by narratives developing, scarcely descrying the frightening scene unfolding
Caught up in thwarting rhyme, no attention given time or the thing climbing toward him
Using drawer bottoms as ladder rungs, clung to each and hung there hungering for gore
Flashes of lightning, highted Zeus’ things, highlight the room, her booth soothed by her removal.
Sound of tiny boots moving along the floor, phalanxes of ant troops on the move
He has written voluminous columns about potential problems inherent in a haunted doll
As a demonic doll stalks toward him, such a fate forsooth seems to suit so tone deaf a scribe, how droll
The carpet rolls up undulating hills whose crossing thrills her, this miniature Hannibal
She is a cannibal, in that she drags limbs off other dolls, leaves them like cannonball victims
Sticks them onto herself until she is a six limbed abominate; a glass inkwell he dibs his nib in
Its clinking arrests momentarily and his first inkling, situation quickly sinking in, the sinful thing
Makes its way across to him, imbalanced by superfluous limbs it sways and shambles
Supernaturally animated it plans and thinks, handles a knife it plans to sink into the back of his ankles
He would be like Talos, brought low by the sea by a wound in his ankle, or like Achilles struck by an arrow in a tender tendon below his anklet
The ankh necklace at his breast seems to shiver
He is given just enough time to regret not having moved yet, white to red like a mood light, or moonlight when rites commence
He is utterly frightened by the sight, face whitened like an evil corpse denied new life by the Christ
He swipes her to the side, she slides across the floor and strikes the sideboard
Heavied his bloodied hem, though not a medical man leveed the crescent to stem the flow.
Alchemisland 
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