The god Kneph's shudders rattled the firmament,
Isis the mother then rose from her sofa,
& flailed in fury at her feral mate
& the old green flame spurt forth from her eyes,
“Look at him,” she said, “The old fuck is dying,
& all the hoarfrost on earth's been run though his maw.
Bind his twisted foot & pluck his rheumy eye,
He's the god of eruption & the king of the winter!
The eagle's flown & the new ghost calls my name,
For him I wore & wear Cybele's dress...
Osiris & Hermes' number one son!”
The goddess fled to her golden conch,
The seawater mimicked her beloved image
& the sky shimmered under Isis' veil.
n e x t
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