Perched over parchment, a Man'tis praying
peers at pages pocked with poetic plagues.
Prestidigitation populating
our peon plutocracies of pleuritic ages.
Invoke the spirits, wood nymphs, and wild boars!
We three deviants stomp the Scottish bogs
stirring stewed cauldron with words like oars
skim scum slim surfaces with witch spell'ed flogs.
Writers conjure ancients in pits of night
whorling dark magic from the bitter view.
Grinding the dank wild sounds into light
from bottomless black jaguars our songs brew.
Acrid green smoke belches from our queer quill jars
incense offering to God and the morning star.
- Aurin Squire
No comments:
Post a Comment