Spell the echo of sacredness

wandering from the forest and pastures,

like the tip of the unspooling fern, presenting

itself

where apparent is lost fly on glass worlds, neither

peacekeeper nor tyrant, neither insider nor outsider

bamboozled by real frames rather than open expanses

of transient reality

Revealed as input collecting and dispersing like the

collapsing cone

and sands fall, cascading

—trance and drone of ritual and celebration

mechanical crazed whisperings

artful articulations, silhouetted by casual and lackluster refinement

ornate arrangements

of movement, transition, and fluidity.

Chime the bells, in

synagogues, cathedrals, in halls of orgy

on mountain shrines

in semi-bloomed cloisters

of glass, drunk of the strong

wines where lies the decadence

of derangement.

In the voices of strangers’ faces

—Deranged, Garish

worn abominations whose elegant plumage equally

evokes the pageantry

of night,

the nakedness

of night,

painting the glory of body

masquerading through genders

in frenzy: whimsical, decadent and consuming

so that the remainder

calls forth nullibiety.

Such is madness and indulgence, twin gods of invention,

so to them give praise.