Al Khemia

Beyond the womb of your counterpane
Sun sets and �scrapers silhouette,
Seven-Eleven neons respond to the nocturne;
Narcoleptic seizure ceases and
The spell of Hypnos slowly fades.

Light the Spirit with a spirit lamp
On an Egypt altar,
Cook a votive to Kali and
Sleek sacrificial steel �
Tonight we Void!

At this juncture:
Stretch-dimple-push-dent-pink! -

The fresh flagged claret mingles with black poison
In a chemical wedding within a high-tech airlock,
Giving pause to ponder � if allowed.
You know you hate what fills
The place of love,
Though to tweak and plunge
Is to avoid detection.

le plasir de la ritual!
The habitual dilemma
Of a Voider, an avoider.
You swear it�s a door, nothing more �
Just one way to go,
So, let loose restraints - 
Let�s get on with this show�

The cat burglar enters moonlit cells
Creeping with light tread, in light shed
By sirens and silver nightingale songs,
Infiltrating with subtle stainless steel purpose.

The suspect device is detected
And simultaneously detonated:
Diffusing iridescent rainbow waves
Ultra-violent and infra-ready songbird varied hues
Lost primate clues in close-up pixillated promises
Radiate along the tracks of all lesser messages;
Super-heating, beating, defeating and welding
All time and space in synapse logic,
To the terminus.
And beyond.

Clea Patra! Thea Patria
Fame of the Father, Mistress of the coming flood
A damned, dammed, divine seed
Caught in a chalice of noble creed,
Child of Isis, Goddess of man,
Who art in Egypt
Upper and Lower
Forever and never
Al Khemia!

Nick, Winter 2000

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