Tomorrow's confederate

when the earthcrust churns, bounces and heaves,

whilst a murder of crows gyrate as dead weight

from the brumous heavens, spreading their poison

of black omens, and the farmer dines on his wife's

ashes watched by the senile eye of the hooded sun,

the mute hours limp in tune with the yelping dirge

of soused wraiths wheedling the aggravated billows

to unleash their voltaic outrage, a figure forges ahead

with nimble skill across seracs and moraines formed

from man's repertoire of prosaic enterprises nullified.

wary of loquacious hierophants promising opulent vales

and sordid potlachs sprinkling trinkets of convenience

to the comatose drove as they wriggle in flat resignation

inside the labyrinth of their own dun-hued, stale abdomen,

the wayward wanderer tersely censurs a dying world's lore

from his ocean deep soul and takes in the beech's cool shade

the little death in a loving embrace.

engulfed in sensuous currents, he dims the light of his aura

to open the gates of the amaranthine demesne of his dreams

where he's sired afresh like a smokeless flame erupted to life

by its own design – pure emanation of his ineffable epithet.

soon rime will retreat under diurnal glare, and the sleeper awakens;

already brooding tension charges the air, rippling dioramas to a blur,

throbbing heat crushes nature's shrine to tombstones of wanton blight,

rivers turn anemic, swarms of flies feast on the lamb's blood-shod eyes.

 

and so the scene is set for a stark and vile face-off

where this stranger to yesterday's heir, waving away

onerous rites, engages into tilting the axis of the earth

to purge the world from its vermin before he perches it

upon the skies of his own private universe as a strange

new sun.