deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Celtic Cross
The trinity knots on an insignia crossroad
entangle the sapien prey of the earth spider
sprawled out on the triple spiral,
spun in a silk orb
from which the world divides spoils of the living hull.
Entering from one path, stepping into the sand dune of an unrecalled birth,
to lose the left leg to an existential crisis on the border of pubescent recollection,
the right arm that pumps the iron and recites the mantra of 401Ks
torn from its smelly socket
of festering must
and dry stout beer
as the chopped head is exiled to hop along the middle ridge of the Celtic cross
and trips off the tip of the cycle
into
where a woman holds a silver apple branch.
The alchemists believed a metal could only be the solute of such transmutation,
forgetting the sorcery of a human
locked off by the hands of natural law
at her binding of the transmundane sophic beast.
entangle the sapien prey of the earth spider
sprawled out on the triple spiral,
spun in a silk orb
from which the world divides spoils of the living hull.
Entering from one path, stepping into the sand dune of an unrecalled birth,
to lose the left leg to an existential crisis on the border of pubescent recollection,
the right arm that pumps the iron and recites the mantra of 401Ks
torn from its smelly socket
of festering must
and dry stout beer
as the chopped head is exiled to hop along the middle ridge of the Celtic cross
and trips off the tip of the cycle
into
where a woman holds a silver apple branch.
The alchemists believed a metal could only be the solute of such transmutation,
forgetting the sorcery of a human
locked off by the hands of natural law
at her binding of the transmundane sophic beast.
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