Now The Brother Shall Betray The Brother (Excerpt From Book #15)

Now the brother shall betray the brother to death, and the father the son; and the children shall rise up against their parents, and shall cause them to be put to death
Brother bitter begins at the death     Brother butter begs in the depths       I listen to Julien Baker and the spectre of Yahweh haunts the spectrum of her work and writing       the spectre of Yahweh haunts the spectrum of my work and writing, a song hauntology and horrific ontology, and the Brother breathes my body     the Brother batters and brutalizes my body, a metallic battery blessing my blood       Brother boasts as a Beast     Brother boasts as a little horn hostile to my hospitality, and the hospital haunts hundreds by hundreds waiting for healing       I heal not but the whiskey woman wails for the whale washing me in its belly as a jaundice Jonah     the Brother bleach my brain but brain bandages itself through Book and Bible     Bible bruises me blue and my brother bites as a bat, but both bipolar binge to the blessingway      Brother and Bible become my order-in-chaos     Bible and Book become in me chaoskampf, the cosmos caressing Christina     Bible banks infinite depths, and its desert deserts my deser, exodus eucharistic and nomad nucleation      Book blays as a bourbon, and I drink the language      I imbibe the letter and speak prophecy      I eat the words as a drowsy drunkard, and I loudly break beak as a bard       Book and Bible beget desert     Book and Bible beget prophecy     Book and Bible betray as One, as language betrays and corrupts, but the lady letras and lights the lady of swords, my patroness and protectress     Book and Bible betray as One, as a prophet must betray and beautify the Holy Spirit, and Spirit spellbinds me to the scroll and scripture of the Book, another between     Book bewitches with Woman as Woman peaks my prophecy with perfect prayer and pentinence
Benjamin, betray your God for God     Benjamin, betray your Christ for Christ      Get up you fearful Jesuit and joust as Judas Iscariot fulfilling prophecy and crucifixion with the sacrifice of one’s own flesh     the body becomes an abode for gods     the body becomes an abyss for goddesses     Betray in bay the abeyance and chatoyance of the cat’s eye, a saber-toothed Taryn attached to the tick tunes tomb theodore at noon     Betray manta rays the mucous membranes matte mantras, a sign and sigil for the gods     I stitch my sigils in the binding of the Book, and sigil shines for the Shekinah     sigil gems the garden for Gods, a hungry garden holy hanging man Babalon and Beast     Betrayal disembarks to the Garden of Gods, hungry for my holy and hanging body     I hang, sigil suspension, also stitched to the spine of the Book
Book disembodied     Bible disemboweled     Book disembodied the edge of the body and Bible disembowels the guts, making room for gods, ad the gods grow the multiplication of souls and bodies        gods grows the multiplication of scrolls and books        Betrayal and belief becomes the library, the letters leather lathering from the left, my woman and adversary       Betrayal as belief bivalves the vision of the library, the words washing the King Wen Sequence       Betray days death, the Kingdom of Heaven, and death draws outer darkness gnashing name-numerals and number-names, the Taryn Talent as the Four of Pentacles in Burial     Betray dances death, danse macabre and momento mori, a mark of the beast on the hands and foreheads       Betray Benjamin beast death density, and the density dams the desert dragon       Density dooms the desert dragon, the bliss of the Black Iron Prison     the death demands dead, and the dead demand death, the bay of Yahweh stealing dead from their graves, gods as thieves in the night     Taryn in the nocturne (Bartok night music and the timpani glistens glissandos      Day of Yahweh death dead in Sheol and Sheol stirs with odd spirits and old spirits, the buried gods of Hades burned in Benjamin bodies (Benjamin as bodies, not body, and Benjamin as souls, not soul)       the tongue itself multiplies word as words, the sting of language and languages       god language and gods languages, the lem lits lanterns on ocean, water fireflies flintlocks in the cemetery      gods commune the dead and dead commune the gods, the spirits spirited in the spark of my soul and souls and death gives       Death gives to Desert and Deserts      Death gives to Yahweh and Elohim, a Christ at crucifixion        A Christ of Death at Death’s sting O Death where is thy sting?      With the gods and goddesses        with hell and Hades        With Sheol and Gehenna       with Outer Darkness and the gnashing of teeth
I father the dead      I father the dead in my own flesh     I father the dead under my thigh in my own loins, a Son of Abraham who gave a tenth to Melchizedek, the priest forever and a prayer of nature into the future      I father the father as the father fathers me, and we birth each other as our others, Christ Children      I father the father and father fathers me, our own reversals, inverses and derivatives, and Humanity lifts up the light of Logos toward Divinity      Humanity elevates the Eucharist to the exaltation of Elohim     Father never finishes but fasts and fastens the flash of Solomon, and Wisdom drops drowsy into exile     Shekinah shades sure in the dust, and dust powders the power of the desert     Shekinah shadows sheol in the dirt, and dirt plusses the perversion of the exodus      I wander after wisdom my daughter       I wander after wisdom my life and sister         Benjamin beloved between the better notes     I wonder winter music John Cage at the hymn and apartments and the chance music rolls the dice aleatoric Adonai     the chance music muscles mussels the seawater crashing against Christ, a chance chasing crucifixion, and crucifixion flees to flight the seafoam of all flesh     the stream of all liturgies and litanies      the slender slight of sonatas and symphonies      John Cage and Jesus Christ father antimonies and oppositions, and the contradictions concoct alkahest and alembic, a bottle for pure pouring, and the liquid seizes luscious and queer, a queen to the cranes       Father the solid state of Flesh synthesizing souls and gods      Father the liquid laser, the aim with angels and visitations, and I visit the sandy sob of Vision     Father the gaseous giants, the genuine gods groaning as ghouls of soul and salamander     I listen to Igor Stravinsky’s Symphonies of Wind Instruments and I jab with the juxtapositions        I punt with the blocks and bricks binging music buildings     Juxtapositions pun and punk, the ferocious forgery of piltdown man      juxtaposition Messiaen and Minutemen, the scorching solos of D. Boon on guitar and xylorimba      sound block by sound block Benjamin seer of Spirits and decision of daemons and music matas masquerades      Sonic brick through sonic brick quantum tunneling into Taryn’s tiptoes and music missals missiles      Symphonies of Wind Instruments spawns Father gods and Mother god, clarinets charming Asia and trumpets taunting Taryn     Symphonies of Wind Instruments announce dissonant neoclassical, a moating perversion of Mozart and the hangover of Le Sacre De Printemps     The music moves nad manipulates the gods and goddesses, and indeed my very soul s and the syllables psell as shaman and musician     the syllables father the fat of spell and spin, a weaver woman threading three women, and the syllables fathers the three and the triple        Tuplet and Trinity       Triune and Triangle      Three fathers one and one fathers three

Sabbatical

I will be taking a sabbatical from posting for a week or two or maybe three. I am working through some intense spiritual experiences right now, but the writing will only get better because of it. Thanks for your patience!

Others Fell On Thorns (Excerpt from Book #15)

Others fell on thorns, and they choked on the seeds and worms devoured them     I saw Aram Saroyan’s […] in a dream, floating in the space in front of my face      My face flummoxed flew face to face as a Word with the Other    The Other pages poetry and pages the poem, and the poem placates purgatory       The poem pierces purgatory, an Other postulate, and the plumb lines lute underground and underworld        Other ornates as an oblate, and I answer as an oracle      I answer from the pit and rains, the Delphi Desert, and the anchorite artifices the Adversary      Oracle anoints and erects the crucifix     Oracle adopts and adores at the food of the Cross, and the Cross contains Other     Cross collects Other the across Ancient of Ancients, an accidental emanating into flux and modulation      Key stone key changes and cornerstone crosscurrents a collect and a coven     I fall feel fell to the cross and Other, an other cross collecting       Spirits and Ghosts, the denizens of the dead        I fall forlorn to the fall full leaves of the cross, and cross never leaves but sinks as splints and spikes into my spine        Cross crowns the fell to full, and I fall onto Adam as lover and protector       I fall unto Eve as a Beloved and a guardian     Fall ferns fear not but flow the force to fluxus and flipped salvation      my salvation flips onto gnosis and revelation       my salvation falls into concealment and initiation, and the concealed reveals Apocalypse       Eucharistic eschatology      I enter eucharist elation elevation the full descent into Hades (Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again       I enter Eucharist between and betwixt as a witch, and that wood and winter weaves the raven of the fall     I fall fell birds benjamin, and birds burn the basilisk into the creep of my crevasses, my holy body huddled with holes        Thomas thack thrak attack and puncture and pierce       Thorns trace trim trumpet the calltrops and kerops roasting the rurap of my body       Thorns track the three to Taryn        Taryn thorns into trickster, a stage into theater time and torpedo projection (two new night movies claw the screen as the undead arose from the unknown!  The most terrifying name in the name of the history of the world now gives you the most terrifying thrill in the history of motion pictures!  THE RETURN OF DRACULA      the first satellite that returns to the earth…. And the Hell that is brought with it THE FLAME BARRIER      Taryn thorns nightmares and nuisance, the nausea of my dreamscape, and the mars mers miraculous murder and resurrection       Taryn draculs dragons and deeps praise Yahweh, and Christ terrifies through Taryn, the talk thrust through the heart       Taryn intellites seed, the song that chokes char and choice, and seed separates and sevens, a Sabbath to Christina      Seed signs sleep and I sleep to exhaustion, my nursing narrating nothing and naught, and Benjamin blooms again flesh flower mother mower, choked into the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Taryn thrills with the horror ow the saw       Taryn tremolos the thread of the seed sawed halves wholes holy and hundreds harrier horror     my horror whores henotheism and polytheism, a panpsychism where the stones speak scarabs and Apollo, Helios horseracing across horizon      Taryn’s thorns do not choke the pagan but the Christian      Taryn’s thorns do not chastise the Zeus Zebra but yoke Yahweh but in new Vision and proliferation       I yearn for Yahweh not choked by Christianity but free in the phantasms and flesh flowing Holy Ghost to Holy Ghost and Ghost gestalts and grounds my soul        worms devour my body       worms crawl in, worms crawl out, worms play pinochle on my snout       worms devour my body in the desert and my remains devour desert vision       my death devours the dry dreams       I dream worms and Woman         I skyscrape serpents and Sophia       she slips into the scars of my skull as a serpent       I sleep she in seconds sleeping the cracks of my skeleton and worms emerge whispering Woman      I sleep somber and sober into the secretions of the serpent and its mouth munches lunar my flesh, fang to fang venom vision and venom valley

Speak the Dodecaphonic Desert (excerpt from Book #15)

Speak the dodecaphonic desert     Speak the pantonal palace, the rainbow nautilus encompassed as a shield     Speak God Gehenna and Inanna purgatory, universal underworld     Speak the God ground gamuts holy     holy Female holy Feminine holy Woman     I speak Spirits     I speak garden sprites, the spillway to woman, the wilderness of goddesses      she emerges from onyx and oasis, the lady of the lake sanctifying the sword for the slaughter of my soul     my soul signifies the spirits by the spear     my soul signs the sprites by the sword, a whore for the Divine Hours     Speak soul to my soul     Speak spirits to my spirits      soul splintered souls, the speaking spell of multiplicity and Christina Marie and woman unites souls to my soul     Wisdom diverges domain and dominions, the demons for the desert, and the desert nomads the daemons dreaming Benjamin Bard and Druid       Wisdom dawns dynamics and dives vision drill and vision descent, and the vision peers pagan     the vision pines pre-socratic, a mystic philosophy and logic, and the logos laredos light and lady      speak desert devastation      speak desert deconstruction     speak desert decolonization     Holy Ghost gazes upon the gods      Holy Ghost grazes and ghouls gods and goddesses, the myriad in shrouds and shades      I sleep the shades       I contemplate the charge of the Holy Ghost, gears in the gambol of gods      gods dancing     gods drinking     gods rejoicing my soul from sheol and I visit dead vision and vision dead     Ghost given Ghost Gavin Ghost guilty and I glow guilt for rejecting my ghosts but now I acknowledge     I acknowledge in my sleep the knock of gnosis, and I awake Krystal Kubla Khan and return, a fall into the pinprick pursing dreams but the dreams redeem

But When They Shall Lead You (excerpt from Book #15)

But when they shall lead you and deliver you up, take no thought beforehand what ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate: but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye: for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Ghost    
But Benjamin bringing it all back home     But Benjamin, subterranean homesick blues and the blues beam beer bright and bourbon binge, magick moonshiners       But interrupts and nothing interrupts incarnation       incarnation ruptures and razors messianic and apostolic       incarnation ruptures and roses tree and serpent        But I become an initiate of the depths      But I become a peoples and advocate for the dead       But I become a nurse and healer to the gods and goddesses       God smokes joints and tokes marijuana         God solicits hits of LSD and muses on magic mushrooms       God hallucinates the gods      God imagines Benjamin but Benjamin becomes, real and imaginary as gods     I grow the gods and water woman      I nurture the gods as nest and narwhal and nurse them to holy help and health      But Benjamin becomes a nurse necromancer       But Benjamin secretly begins the Book with creation of pagan humanity and esoteric polytheism        Book begets Book and Book begets Benjamin        Woman whales wet the Word        When I write to water, the wilderness springs up        wilderness splays wild as weeds, the whirlygig wizard when wounds the Holy Spirit and Holy Spirit splits and spits the pit and pyre, a poem for the dead     When whistles Holy Ghost and Holy Ghost grasps and grants boons to Benjamin and I bore born again      I bare birth from above, the bast mast mutilation the spiritual circumcision      spiritual circumfession and I fast flesh      I find the when went wilderness, a nest knolling knots Krystal and crisis, and my Christianity clones crisis        my Christianity cracks wolf and weft through the weave, God shirt in the shuttle     shuttle shatters spirit into many-splintered tenacious spirals, spoke spike in the spin, and gods salt gestalt WHEN     Spirit spirits speak the spill to when, wandering wilderness old and new gods       ancient and contemporary gods      primordial and postmodern gods     gods when the wake, a walk to shadow work and work darkness, deep division in desert      deep visions to the dead       WHEN leads me to the Levant, the lair in layers of lesser demons and daemons     WHEN winds Holy Spirit to lead me to archaic apostasy, the archegrammar of the Greek underworld     WHEN winds Holy Ghost to lead me to Hermetic Heresy, a hermitage in the desert dwelling, and I dip into Hades for Healing      I descend into Hades as Healer, and its heft holes hunger: hungry in wombs and hungry for ancestors, and its past pursues me      Past plays with my paganism, a plane and pirouette      the paganism lead glosses gods in the glow, a guru and gambit gleaming shyly      slyly gods peak out of Christianity’s corners        gods peer from Christianity’s cupboards and the lead leavens in light       light lims lewd dark, and dark delivers me up to desert       deliver me up to Abomination of Abominations (my apostasy) and Desolation of Desolations (my crucifixion)

Deliver me to Kari, and I remember or recall past conversations with my female spirit guides.  You’d think that Oliver is your Kid, I say.  I do have a temptation every once in awhile to steal him, says Kari, but I am not ready for kids I realize.  I am still too much into me.  I enjoy getting to hang out with Oliver but then I can give him back.  I don’t even know if I want kids anymore or marriage.  I feel like a different person.  All the things I used to want I don’t.  Finally got my divorce papers.  I feel like I haven’t really improved much since the beginning of the year.  A little but not a lot.  I’m not sure what I should be doing.  I got a gym membership last week and trying to go everyday.  Gives me something to do and I’m trying to build up energy.  I feel old.  You crazy cat lady?  That is the only goal I have in life now, is to be a crazy cat lady.  I think I could be plenty happy just me and my cats for life, she says.

I’m approaching a Christo-Pagan or Neoplatonic Gnostic worldview.  YHVH and Christ is my God, but henotheistically.  I feel the gods and spirits of the universe surround me.  I feel their spells and incantations empower me.  I heal the gods as a nurse and prophet and advocate.  They heal me and restore my soul to fullness.  I’m not sure it negates my Christianity so much as extends it, and causes it to embrace all tradition and primordial history.  I want my spirituality to encompass the whole of human experience.

Take no thought but turn tern Taryn        Take no thought but char chill Christina      Take tusks the tool box Bible and I baptize my Bible into paganism and perversion       Take tumbles tiny tumults, the Bible threatened by my apostasy, Benjamin Sabbatai Zevi     Bible bends to Benjamin boast, an apostate AntiChrist yet Christ buys me as a brother      Christ and AntiChrist chain familial, the same flesh     brother and brother     sister and sister     morning and evening star     Bible blazes towards the abyss my body binged and bargained     Body bruises toward Bible taking no thought but Taryn, and Taryn Chisel, Christ to rock, verily room and rome      take no thought but take up the cross      take no thought but take up the carpentry towards crucifixion      Body suspended beheaded the Bible burns my body from end to end     Bible bams brimstone, pages of Hades, and I paste its pagination to my pelvis, a bone vision and primitive dream       I descend to its inversions       I deepen to its weeping woman        take no thought but the Bible      Take no thought but the Book      I become a bastard to the Book and it births me illegitimate yet immaculate      I become both barrier and battering ram to the Book and Book pins pinions and pit to the points of my eyes, and I eyewitness woman      Thought tinkers thought      thought toys thought       thought tines thought timeless, a tempest that tooms looms the witch’s broom brushing and rushing reeds, and the pinion becomes porous     pinion becomes palimpsest, the multiplicity of Book and Scripture     Thought tokes timber, a reverend titillation

The Bunnies Are Midnight Bunnies (Excerpt from Bunnies For Christina, Book #1)

I have posted these excerpts before in two separate parts, quite awhile ago, and I have gained some followers since then.  I thought I would repost it and give a brief commentary on it.  This is the very beginning of the book "Bunnies for Christina", which was written almost 15 years ago now.  I was a young, enthusiastic, and tried to cram as much content into a sentence as possible. I'm still proud of what I wrote though, with what I knew at the time.  I would summarize the piece as follows:  a paragraph introducing the characters of Benjamin and Christina, which then goes into a surreal Creation Myth riffing on those two characters.  I hope you enjoy.


The bunnies are midnight bunnies – they run wakes in the fields.    At the pet shop, the brown bunny in the plastic igloo: pull his ears back with a glorious pat.    Christina wants to steal the bunny (Christina wants to steal anything soft), and we almost take it home with us.    Bunnies run wakes in the fields, she says.    Other bunnies too -- there were some others in the same as the igloo, but not of the igloo and not as soft, I suppose, but Christina remembers all bunnies while I do not know.    You can’t take them all home with you, I say.    She knows this but does not believe it.    Hemingway, his wilderness and darkness, speaks of the terrible game -- the war, the trenches, decisions (pure and mixed strategies) and game; (fuck – First let me explain -- the multiplicity of living and there is nothing that is not something of another -- therefore, bunnies are darkness, or darkness is a bunny transform Hemingway transform Benjamin and Christina transform the multiplicity of living and the game, although the game is a very serious one.    So if we are leaving the pet shop to go to her house for awhile, where we often play card games -- speed, golf, a number title which I cannot remember -- and I would lose often.    I had very slow reflexes and response times.    And there were many other things:    for example, there was a craving for hot cocoa, and those instant packets were nonexistent, so Christina placed whole chocolate in the pan and added other substances -- milk perhaps or sugar -- and boiled it down to hot cocoa, and it was a very strong cocoa, one which reminded me of coffee, and it was all very good and very hot.    Why remember such things, except to know the reflections of individual creation, and perhaps I secretly know what the chocolate means:    everything will be boiled down into sweetness and bitterness, like childhood.

Wilderness is Death -- desert strewn red rocks and colour strata (split third the Desert de dew deserts walk vast:    carobselened catalytic and fantastic) stark blue cover bird songs -- 
yes, Desert! Erosive and friction discarding and rebibbing leaf allude nude in many happy returns year new incantations:    
-- fury Irish banshee and female fodder death (wed printemp dancers) 
-- pipers potlatch the polygon relation revelation for long day and night    (no day but homogenous time -- flat inflating time) 
-- trenches stack trenches stacked barquillwire 	
-- the nighthawks: the desert personifies nighthawks, close concrete and suits, shafted in aluminum and tin along a single highway where perhaps chain gangs took their notice but nobody noticing digging for the same iron making steel; on counters a milkshake or large windows peering out into the absence -- wilderness and death permeates as colour fields. I feel death often, in sleep and subtle breeze. In a zip. Language is the Native.    Adamic language spill litigal is the work of the Stream. The Stream is lightning in the wildness -- the oft of mirrors, splits, and resurrection. There have been resurrections of mine and thus spirit many: Us Kindred, Kindred History, Kindred time. Once there was, once there wasn’t.    In some beginning in a bale of hay, Weruda God my Yah shotgun paintings Railroad Earth (crossed Earth evangelist Earth).    Here down on dark Earth helfel, Hellelu Yah unfettered WONDER Fluids Two to ‘Let Us’ -- Let Us create:    CREATE -- you see, it (two) (who, me? We. Kindergods; Yah y kinder gods) -- essency (essentiality aum-singularity) and fleded Create -- In Our Own Image -- Image very -- God Us Images Man:    Man Us images God fullness of Mind	Berkeley’s God or Borges God (peering integer ornithology argumentum black raven augmented) -- Voice Ideaum (idea-um-aum) verily Time ye bore from Columbus’ egg (kneeling narcist egg ster [flight to stern] plucked from the paw of a gnawing idiot god, but Yah Kinder full (ghost) copernicuses a ghost and child find -- Music: Sound:    is Light / amplified Light -- to be where (at one and once) created and noncreated as Jesuits of God, First of God, First of Woman, Second IMAGE Man:    Image God, El Yah -- place purely God and God -- purely Christina and Christina -- purely Benjamin and Benjamin [Us] -- In God [the Using] is nothing but God [the Using] naked as a beginning -- Beginning furthers beginning and never is beginning and knots end unclues begins (IS: an infinite set beginnings and creation [created] : each thought the powerful, each first gods Benjamin and Christina -- each: a Real entirely consistent and decided, and we choose -- Us, and all that is touched Us, kissed Us, our blessed branches) and Us spoke BE -- beginning as exists, taciturns as exists and struggles (itself) extant, from the force of the fold -- BE -- in mornings:    Morning -- it must always be night, otherwise they wouldn’t need the light -- Light becomes monk’s mood, straight down a morning and a night before coyote swallows the moon -- blue -- blue from many ghosts KinderYah speaks blue (blue light they Light otherwise it’s always Night	blue gold bees a honey skull and there was Light    gods and Pair between a heaven and a heaven (Light sparsic in the forward -- the Singer of Sorcery plays electric. Three guitar density. Plugged In. Mixing pure and impure. Illuminated) / Nare forget, Death is a beginning -- die to begin -- Southern bemoans along in Void throughcomposed (I knew Loneliness and Death / World Earth baptized in Light New Death to try death a fashion and Earth salts a stone (a basalt pound) [this is it Death from the Dark and Death -- beginning -- by beginning through entrance Death and WORD -- BE, sounds WORD, a crescent and water separates from the Earth it baptized (into / out of) Death and the Flesh Earth appears -- moulders back tectonic stretched by long glacier hooks -- hedonist hooks -- plasters hidden Smiling Earth -- it is good.    Now, the earth was void and wilderness magnetism and the spirit of Christina belonging Christ hovered above dry death the expanse (the rock face) apart from the waters baptized.    This water is blood and blood collects into viscous pools of fire -- blood burns and skins the skeleton of water dwellers, heart muscling like a cyclotomic gamelan / BE -- water is blood ] blood is water, a stream veinsfigureeight (Langue Literal watering the whole surface ground rounding.    Flesh is Earthen fire:    Earth Fire felts flesh -- magic human animal flesh mires flesh (skeletons the skin) my God my Yah (who I was) to Christina Marie (Who I am) for to be recreated is a knowledge -- most important is Hand (to take Hand -- Symmetry, Sister, my living-to-be-born Sister) one image created (created Yah image, Us image) Handful finger upon finger concave bone and marrow to Shape, marked shape as a God a Creator for ‘We -- Us -- the Carnate to Create as a God’ --    male and female kindle from soft-steeped earth, the same formation of clayrosestars (we are the same stars are) and exhaled Spirit into our (Our relative prime Our our hour) nostrils, touched bodies in the sea and burned the milling miller incense -- in prayers blessing them -- wake conciousness La Christine Moriganna! Jehovial and motherly, reflects and proceeds -- aroused me from a deep sleep -- I was sleeping much deathly and brief like a candle (composition of sound, prepared fire, rustle of coins). Gold sine mine and four rivergondus, spanning like a colossus and lighthouse, finding ourselves such a salted beacon, truediety and    Say We -- thee Christina Benjamin -- thus human unique, unsheltered, and most close of hands -- that which in death and altar is secret but saving -- Beginning. In Earth, some sort of garden -- alchemical garden -- din celestial birds -- monochrome essential (umm I know acids chariot proteins) Orc Earth thy pivot point thy humble in which the Cross is and the classical elements that combined (confined) it; the sun is Light and zero-dimension of the point of context and it wheels like all cycles, but the same spoke -- spoke characteristic (fields characteristic or character Direlecht derelict) and indeed ask worship in the sense our Nile grew its paper and enchant) -- grew and insected a gardenia Billie Holiday used to wear -- hence New Jerusalem Garden, Painstake garden, amethyst and ingot garden cigarette smoke covering cool like a jazz photograph, snaking like a populated city, blocks and taxis, piercing a neuroserosis, gunding centerpiece -- Bearing Tree -- gasp Man -- BEARING TREE -- life forms colicky in pods and fruit bearing boughs and life curves its trunk root    the tiny babies Christina loves to nurse -- and serpent Tree fall Tree of life, Tree knowledge Good and Evil (what can be more good and wonderful then myself? I(rUs) beyond Evil and Good and instead humanityGodsworth understood being moral as a cloud), Yggdrasil (inverted, uproots waving), the bohdi, (others, all poinsettias brewing other planets) -- intertwined and hugging into one organism living, imagined by Own Kindred Unitary Mind (From Us, all good things will Spring Forth); Spanning River and all green and autumnal things. From River is the Wade, floating Leaf the Lilyponds, strong like raft pangea filtered noise. Wild and creature of all stature and unique migrate feedings paths and pathos, medicinal seek - - sayer Tree migration and stationary. We neither gather nor hang fruit abundant but Benjamin Christina the very fruit, dear all exotic and island (inland) -- clear lovely and ripe and we devour eachotherundearneathflesh, cannibals and uncannibal, only tasting and becoming What One Is Not Unlike the Other. None nakedness, none knowledge -- one body hermaphrodite, both sun and daughter, no ending or beginning of this person or say this person or this. In the mirror is the residue. Not multiplication but self and two selves. A reflection of what is human and Godlings. Our catechism. Holy Rites. Benjamin/Christina is First Priest, rocks Umim and Thumim (dum tweedle dee tweedle), without generation and from first generation, birth and prophecy -- it’s love and ancient Kindred meeting structures like Mediterranean, terria and Mediterranean in which we (were) baptized or ventured forth out from gardens black and dark countries and centers to prophesy DEATH IS A GOSPEL. Us -- Ancient Cradle, the Ganges, Greeks (eonta, nomos gamma, destroying itself by its very complexity), Philosopher, Telemachus y Ulysses -- we leave dreamings, a serpent from the generation less generation with rainbow scales and underbelly, digging Uluru and landscapes, carved rock and sandstone, our fists in caves and under burrow readying itself for the Hunt, reaching, reading, of no other but ourselves -- the identity element -- Resurrected, I awake.

I Take Root Rich Ruby (excerpt from Book #15)

I take root rich ruby in my rock and my rock rifts real     my root sprays the rays      seven rays to seven crowns, and I crown Christ and Christina moon and sun     their heroics hue hermaphrodite loot legions     their heroics hem them in heat, conjoined twins in conjunction and they conjure crayon and canine chants chain ancient childhood and the child teaches shekinah and sophia to the aged
Magic swarms around me as serpents and locusts, the locus of the Messiah.  Magic mounts a matrix within my materials, nature to my soul, and the soul speaks chants and incantations.  Magic meets the mercurial as Apollo and Luna, and Hermes mediates intermediate and intermedia, and I loose my magic in liminality.  It becomes dark mixed with light, and light mixed with dark, and the darkness knows the light.  The darkness knows as magic knows, and magic knows and kneads gnosis.
I rock and root      I rage and merge martyr and magician     I converge Christ and Christina, believer and unbeliever, but she believes herself Benjamin baptized in the sacred beef and beef, brewing as a stew for sister spirits and spinster saints
Magic mints currents and currency, the elan electricity circulating through the lymph and lake of my body.  Lake leds loose locks and lunacy, moon magician mingling mirror multiplies mirror, the rent relent reflection
I realize vocables the vocabulary sphinxing vision and soil stimulates soul and spirit     Soil dissimulates soil and spirit, hidden gnosis and knowledge at the grave gates and gatling gates, gowned in garment glowing      soil speaks     soil mouths magician Taryn theurgic and the above bellows biro the Book below       Soil sprouts the speech       Soil mellows the milleau mourning morning, a moat for the miraculous      mirrors returns soil and meanders as Moses     Desert journey     desert jamming       desert junkie      I desert dopesmoker, weed wanton to the soil and weed working to woman       soil sings a little, a soprano to science, but magician merges the rational and suprarational     magician marries sun and moon, masculine and feminine, Christ and Christina     my prayer does not produce roses of grain but proliferates gods and goddesses, the granular synthesis combing cool new sound waves       my prayer does not produce but peculates theurgic tales Taryn as the hyle hewn from Heaven and Hell       grains groan desert death, hoarded manna made rotten      grains rind the opening material and material menstruates moon and magic      grains glyph granite, the rock of my sigils, and Book changes the child of crucifixion      Book changes and cutlass, the East from Ethiopia, Sheba visiting Solomon

Dialogue Dwells Fencing Flesh (Excerpt from Book #15)

Dialogue dwells fencing flesh and sores swords, saints sliced into sections      saints sandwiched between spears      the dead give in dialogue to me piercing prayer from Jerusalem     the piercing chill I feel my dead wife’s comb in our bedroom under my heel       the piercing hell I feel fastening itself to my flesh and it burns an image of Benjamin       it fastens with fire the letters of the law and Taryn Torah     the letters flash black fire on white fire      white fire on black fire     the thread of the Book weaving Woman     the wearer sees her fibre as the poet sees her word     Poet Prayer     Poet Purgatory      Poet Prayer for the Dead     Poet limbic limbo and palace purgatory and purgatory pierces brimstone to Benjamin Sodom and Gomorrah      Holy Spirit Sodom and Sadist and God Gomorrah and Golgotha     Gethsemane greens gospel into Gomorrah, my sister cities of the plains     my sisters queer and homosexual sunned in salt
My frame fucked flesh      my flesh fucked frame to the fires of Hell      Hell is Gospel      Hell gospels Gospel and Gospel gospels Hell, Hades depths deep distant     Desert devastation and deconstruction shedding Christianity     Christianity molting from my exoskeleton body (my frame fucked flesh     my flesh fucked frame the fuse furnace firmament     I circle and roll the riptide the dead     dead dirt destitute Rahab the Dragon and prostitute and I pay plith pint flint foal frozen to the dead, satisfying sheol     Void Vision satisfies Sheol, the King of Babylon buried broach brash brothers, and I blame Babylon my Brother     I kin cocaine to Kings, a cocaine blues bastard, and writing bastardizes and orphans      Gospel bastards and splits families at the turret trunk, ax Taryn Tiamat       chainsaw chosen Christina     they cane caine crane at my calves, crippling, and Gospel cripples colonization and imperialism       Gospel kills and canonizes
I listen to There’s a Riot Goin’ On by Sly and the Family Stone     the new urban music, writes Vince Aletti, not about dancing to the music, in the streets.  It’s about disintegration, getting fucked up, nodding, maybe dying.  There are flashes of euphoria, ironic laughter, even some bright stretches, but mostly it’s just junkie death, oddly unoppressive and almost attractive in its effortlessness…
There’s a riot goin’ on     rough riot rich riot riot unruly riot rapture, the judgment at the resurrection, the sound of the trumpet, arcadian angel      there’s a riot, desert disintegration     there’s a riot, flesh fucked up from phantoms     there’s a riot, nodding nuisance and nuclear into Indra’s Net      there’s a riot, maybe dying into the marbled movement of hard bop

There is a passage in The Red Book by C.G. Jung where it states:  No one knows what Christ endured during his 3 days in Hell… I have experienced it.  He also wrote, Whoever ventures into Hell becomes Hell.  I have become Hell.  My body has become a chamber and purgatory for my own soul.  I fear I am becoming a terrible pagan and polytheist.  I feel the singular God Yahweh sprouting and growing into multiple gods and goddesses in my soul.  I feel the Trinity becoming a plethora of trinities.  I fear for my Christianity.  It molts, it sheds, changing into something I do not recognize.  This Hell is especially painful because I have only recognized Christianity my entire life.  My Christianity is dying, being planted as a seed in my soul, and become a Tree of Mustard Seed Gnosis I do not recognize.  Christianity resurrects into a strange pagan Christianity, an Ancient of Ancients Christianity where the old golds roam free and express themselves.  What a hell indeed.  I feel I’m becoming closer to a Magician or Theurgist now, and the Divine actively acts upon me and through me.  And I have to write it down and share it.

My Spiritual Director writes to me:
Thank you, Benjamin… I have found in my own journey, that painful honesty is the most valuable… honestly with others of course and more importantly with myself.  It opens doors into ‘hells’ and ‘heavens’ that must be traveled either consciously or subconsciously (both, actually)… It is such a deep gift to us (all who know you) that you journey to openly and consciously – I believe it is the messianic (Christ) way that Jesus himself followed… No matter where it led.  Ultimately what matters is being authentic… being ‘at one with’ was the thing, even if it led to the cross, and journey through hell… Being thought by some to be a heretic, blasphemer, or magician, a prophet, or… savior.
It was Jesus who said (according to the gospels anyways), ‘unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies’ – Jn. 12:24
Love will carry you, even through the burning of Hell…
With great respect and much love, 
Matt

My soul singles out sheol     My heart heals in the hulls of hell, and I half my horn hedged over hedged in by the hand of Elohim      Hell holds me in haste a paste pestilence pouring pus from my orifices, and I scrape my bare skull with a potsherd       Hell inhabits and inhibits hallucinatory, a yast yard Yahweh ayahausca, and I see the saints sandy swords around me, steel shade and iron shadows      I witness the wheels whistling heisenberg and hindenberg, a heist hit hoisting hugs possessed by legion        demon damage my psyche, but the daemon mer mercury and hermes

Others feel on rock, and they did not take root in the soil and did not produce heads of grain
I feel on the rock      I fell on the Christ rock      I fell on the Christina rock       I fell floating fiat, my body a spinning sheepherder plane, and plane pierces plane in intersection       in juxtaposition disjunctions     in flesh functions outward and oar ear eat difference       place prophecies orthogonal and diagonal the dead dissuading the desert and the desert determines Benjamin Berserk      Prophecy Pagan      Be intimate interview with the underworld     Hospitable hospital hell       hell hills happening and happenstance, the rock ruling the remainder, the petals of the Rose       Petal ails all an ointment and crushed yields sweet sheet fragrance       fragrance flits and flirts with my flesh and I flaunt fire         pagan fire       gnostic fire       heathen fire         Book becomes the bewitchment of the Book of Shadows         Book grows as grimoire and generates gods

Depths dray dire wolves       depths drink the dross and droid, river robotics rifling my rhine, a rink and rib wrestles raw the risk to my subconscious     subconscious closes cloister, the cruise clipping crutch, and subconscious kinks cask and casket       subconscious cartons coffin, cartoon caricatures, and depths dizzy death          depths dine death decision, dewy dice chance she conscious, the slewing of many heroes and my heroics hoist me to my hanging        my heroics haul me to hell     hell house     hell home      hell hospital       hell hospice      heroics heave to God’s gallows by the gullard       blood gallons       blood gear ends       blood galaxies        shearer universal sacrifice archetypal     sacrifice collective unconsciousness

Root rock alive     root rock alice     root rock alip

Lord You Are My Lord (excerpt from Bunnies for Christina, Book #1)

Lord you are my Lord.    God you are my God.    A body is madness and madness is a waltz -- my body is trying to die -- the best thing is to prepare to die.    god is Death, Sun Ra says.    God is death and here is a seer.    In before a madness is a conflict and the body is an injury, the structure of a hip bone shrinking.    Jacob prayed an gifted an Esau and Isaac was his fear.    He separated himself -- to separate is to pull apart contrary -- and to gift is a contradiction -- a gift frees and returns and to reject a gift is certain death.    To not die is to give and a sacrifice is giving.    Jacob rested and Jacob did not rest but gave (and he gave himself a contradiction) and the fear of Isaac resolved itself solitary before a God appeared.    God appears and god dies a die (here is a God Jacob encountered God and terrified, for an encounter is death and Jacob wrestled before a madness and God turns a madness and to encounter God is an insanity.    In loneliness is a Man and alone is a Son of Man and a Man wrestles God a Son with no prevailing.    To prevail is a contradiction and a Son of Man contradicts himself-as-prophet and followed man in morning.    To touch is to strike a socket and a hip is a source of righteousness.    Jacob did not prevail but the Son of Man is a Man who cannot prevail and he injured Jacob.    An encounter with God is an injury and that injury is a righteous madness.    Jacob did not let go for to encounter passively is add death, to encounter without a doubt is a death.    Do not go lest I die, Jacob says.    Give me a blessing, Jacob says.    A blessing is a gift and contradicts the madness madness towards Son an insanity and a name.    What is your name? says the Man and a Man is God a Son of Man himself-as-prophet.    Jacob is he grasps a heel and the heel is the edge of a socket.    The Man says, Israel he who struggles with God, for to encounter God is a struggle and a doubt and without doubt there is a death.    Jacob dies and God is a Death and god deaths and new is Israel and the name is to both die and born.    Jacob dies and does not prevail though he prevails in madness wrestling a God and borns an Israel, and he struggles in doubt, which is the cross.    Son of Man is not named but refers a Yah or a God of Abraham, the I Am.    Christ I am madness almost as mad as a crucifixion and one is madness.    I mad surround a crucifixion and perhaps a crucifixion is a cathedral.    Glass mad four evangelists and four is a one and one is a four and one is madness as mad as Christ but four is not insanity.    Four is not absurd; three is absurd and signifies a harbor.    God changes not and became Christ who humans and sons change.    Jesus changes as God changes and God is a madness, a one or is one.    One does not exist.    One exists a crucifixion and a flesh decays and even no decay is a change.    Death alters a death and three crucifies and God interrupted my madness and gifted death me alters a death and death altars and death changes or concludes one a four, three happening in one.    Indeed she is female.    She even has her womb a female name.    Salt reflects ash a woman Christine Christina meg ash and Christina is a female name.    Christina ann maries or ann maries movies and their eyes are mixed with blood.    Christina re Christian la mi Christina love female ann female sum madness sum la Christina.    La Christian mi madness and two and three is an orthodox Pythagorean and three is metaphysically more powerful than two. 
 
clesxd deaese deathe resl marry.    low is low low and low lows low aft low after less low marry.    marry low ann marie and lessens next and next and next next lowers and anns ann marie and marie Christina resles married restless less low and God lowers or God gos is gos sell low and low marie christina Christina restless resles lesne la lay lowers God G-d Gosh oh oh Maries low is low low and low lows cuts and a cut clears God and God cuts any among you is without sin and cuts.    Cut loses less cut loses less and lessens God cuts among 
	kreqrops un lesser less Marie y the front of revelation is insanity insane God you crup me against revelation
you crup me against revelation and against canons      crook against revelation field revelation words and the Word was a god
slower ah? ah?    slower knelt slower silence less and revelation againsts me and God is my madness      it is is it is lessers slow canons crooked fields my body a prayer and a body is a prayer swollen and concave    her bury body she mary merrily merrily along
her bury body she mary marie 

she was angry when I stole              steal did I steal (no slower ( I imitate your body the body is revelation and a body is fractal a body nesses endless and I imitate I steal    she was angry
catch hatch happens      caught              catch hare happens a bunny              i closed catch a bunny in ten ten hatches catching          and a smith is for grinding    a dig does not mean or a garotte does not say but uses            i use dig catches happens to be a bunny            and guilt merges marie      no i do not tire i happened i caught and flesh feels like fur      flesh is a fur furnished rocking chair      a head          an Ur      mer eleanor is a stretching      stretched like fur over flesh rocking            over head over ur no seeing nothing seen
Marie mangles 
fine flowers in the valley
marie mangles ann marie 
and the green leaves they grow rarely                              noises and mangles happens a bunny a plop errrrr    her mer her did go          catches marie a body      a valleyed body concave    or missing convex            did you happen across a body and the green leaves they grow rarely and they hers merges    a bunny body

clouds in mario brothers were merely palette swapped bushes

darling dare I’ll twine wade the ringlets of my raven black hair mid ringlets dared darling a mad one and my darling is a love	love is not death but dares darling over    death deaths not love loves strong as death but not over death rings daring Marie a hand chisel 
Marie I love Marie I darling and darling is arcane 
darling is arch anachronistic annas real over real a death wades
darling and rings letted Lorelei and lorelei -- lorelai i love
a lorelai is a butterfly 
lorelei is a butterfly 
darling is shaped a darling and dancers had a particular attraction for him danced close dear dared close as close and kissed darling darling over a death and to know is die
I know		I know close	closes close and kisses over and arcs a lorelei or lorelai
	and knowing dies known no not closed darling I dare not knowing	I lye sarely sick for the love of a maid 	among the blue flowers and the yellow and I wade a wait wade blue loreleis 		
bellows are animal lung		I dare but turn the bridegroom came down to her her nurse the bridal chamber, which he prepared and he decorated the bridal chamber and as if it were a burden, they leave behind him	
naked man with naked man	nakedness has eyes and a blackbird is naked and dreams darling darling and a bird is a darling dark danced darkling I listen and I feed on decaying vegetation and a feeder insect is for living.    Behind him lingering fled a naked man a darling for me and marie yoru blue wades and lingers white or Ada how do I love you catched the harness 		I dattered close to you marie and I give up expectation and I reside in a Thomas child it was midnight and swallows love my doubt is you in the desert 	a palm lefts open bare on cross	Christina collects the dessert and a psalm lefts open naked in cross		body to body in doubt and I bare doubt the one I love the three I love	I thirst a woman	naked man with naked woman and a woman is man doubted darling through darling.

I Was A God’s Man (excerpt from Bunnies For Christina, Book #1)

I was a god’s man I was a god’s child, awful and fear.    But we drink good coffee.    I don’t know the difference between good coffee and bad coffee, but we drink good coffee and that was almost as good.    You have no remorse, C says.    Christ came for the bodies.    If Steve Buscemi from Ghost world can get laid, anyone can!    C says.    I felt beautiful and I felt like violence or an off-duty ambulance.    I laughed and I muttered out are out then out 	out the ley mere three in out then out are out yes out yes I visit out and calling.    You will weary of me, C says.    Weary is juggling.    I wild and bothersome Christina I lost or forgot.    She tired of me.    I tired too.    I sang a lullaby.    I forested God.    I remember when we went to your house for a birthday party, C says.    The boys were watching Scary Movie and I thought it was tasteless, so we hung out in your room, C says.    Do something good for your birthday -- eat ice cream cake, or break a pinata, C says.    I do none of those things.    I’m going into that morning.    I am going to the night.    Morning and night is Morning and Evening, and Morning is an evening or night.    The stars are everywhere the stars and the same everywhere and the Night is everywhere and everyone.    Everyone is stars.    Stars die red and haloes.    Stars die red and records.    The stars die red and disks.    The night glows in dead stars.      It is a good night to drink a beer;    it is a good weather to drink a beer.    Night is sunflowers, rivers and bird calls -- Here, I love you as a child does.    I am worthless though I love, a Christina says.    Do you think I will be like Mrs. Renteria?    Christina asks.    I’m shy and I like cats.    All I remember from geometry is sitting with you and that kid with the super low voice -- and the sheep problem, C says.    The night glows in dead stars and remarks.    The night remarks night.    I watched a falling star waiting for Elenika.    It was dark and night and cold but I enjoyed very much watching and waiting.    The referent is a meteor.    The night is a window and she crawled through and slept.    When I was little, C says, I wanted to act out Marry Poppins.    I was six when I opened my umbrella and jumped off the top bunk.    The umbrella got stuck in the ceiling fan, so I hunt there for a little while until the umbrella    broke and fell, my back landing on a package of my little sister’s diapers.    I tried it again a couple of years later with my cousins off the roof.    The umbrella gave and flipped inside out, making me fall even faster to the ground.    I still have the scar where I fell onto a sprinkler head.    Kids are dumb, I guess, C says.    The evening was broken stars and settled and died.    Stars the south water the Midday Woman.    I was South Water the Midday woman the woman broken up like stars.    The Bride became a Bride before a Bride and she lost herself as a mistress for the body is Power and the Power steals everywhere as body multiplies and the body divides into many.    I wandered among the trees, and the trees were dark and stole the mistress who is the Bride.    I wandered among the trees and I fell asleep and I slept dreams    dreams where I met my imaginary mother and dreams where I met my former lover.    The trees shaded me in their darkness and hostage.    The trees are the body of the mistress.    I dream her origin.    I do not know whether I dreamt her origin or I created the Origin.    The Origin is only for me to know.    I saw the completion of a cycle and the cycle is a Wedding and Birth.    Old gods, who were humans, divided their bodies and formed the Earth which is an organ and who is a Mistress of the sun.    I cannot dream her origin.    The sun is a skull.    I do not know where the skull originates.    The Mistress-to-Be-Wedded broke a bore and sewed a ritual.    The ritual is Winter-to-Spring.    She gives Birth to Spring and crosses her arms.    A cloak is draped around her head and I do not see her eyes.    She holds the barren globe.    The Globe is a mirror and a sword and the globe is regeneration.    The globe is the orbit of the earth.    The Earth is Sex, which I fear.    It was one who divided and cleaned its center to become two.    The Bride says, I conjure you -- daughter, I injure you -- and divides bodies and brings them together.    She conjures a lamentation for a daughter who must leave and bind with New and Holy.    These become storytellers and I-Who-Foretell-The-Future and I-Who-Interpret-the-Past.    I knew in her in my dreams.    I saw a daughter in my dreams who beckoned me and told me mysteries.    I loved her as a child.    I love her as child.    This is a gift from the Bride who is a mistress and loves corpses and bodies.    The history becomes a Wedding.    History becomes what history becomes History becomes What the Wedding history becomes what the Marriage -- Memory the Mother -- memory is a Mother and speaks in dreams the dreams Mother Memory devoted to ritual prayer through ritual devoted to ritual and fathoms in dreams and I dreamt -- or I dreamt -- Memory memories marriage or Wedded and happens to the Birth and Barley -- I cut the barley and the barley ends.    The Millet cuts and the grain ends until a body divides and cut nothing cut barley or die barley dies and water -- and I knew the water who remembers and the garden remembers and the trees swallowed the bandits and the bats -- the tree swallows the mistress and death -- the funeral does not require a death.    The death does not require the funeral.    The division sounds the death and transforms a bride.    It transforms a husband -- it transforms no who transforms as ritual and majestic -- as ritual or magic as action.    A transformation is an act.    A transformation is a will.    Often one transforms into odd things or impossible things -- mirror less cubes, mirroring triangles, omniscient spiders or trickster spiders (mass magic in the mad with tricks and crafts terrifying.    This is what makes it terrifying.    White makes it terrifying -- white light and drones.    The white conquers the Trees -- trees in belly -- and steals a Bride (I often steal a bride or I often steal from a bride) and the Bride is white and terrifies.    The Bride terrifies because she is transparent and opaque.    The Mistress terrifies because she is transparent and opaque.    It divides itself and becomes two bodies.    The bodies transform into glass and crown
Levi made a left.    Levi made a left very fast.
Levi is very fast.    Levi left.    Levi made a left.    
Boom!    Here comes the train.
Levi is a conductor.    Levi conducts trains and harmonica choirs.    He is a fine harmonica player.    He makes a left and conducts.
He conducts the mad rush.
He conducts left the mad rush.
He eats his ramen noodles.    He eats his ramen noodles very fast.
Go Levi Go!    Boom!
Levi makes a left and dashes and bashes his lolo.
He laughs.
He stands up.    Sit down and laughs.
He conducts the train and harmonica choirs.
Everyone is a harmonica player.
Everyone is a singer.
Levi sings his rhymes and Levi sings his songs
Sing Levi sing!
Boom! Levi sleeps.
Boom!    Quiet -- a Levi sleeps
Daughter swallows them both.    She transforms into a particular daughter.    In a dream, she is my daughter, and I am giving her away to a Wedding.    She is a wedding and her body capsules a death.    I do not know the groom.    I do not know the husband.      The wedding-place is the entrance to her body.    The flock of birds enter and exit continuously.    The birds bless with morning dew and honey dew and enter and exit a wedding continuously.    Stretched is the skin of the city and it does not collect water.    Stretched is the surface of the city and it collects water -- the city collects water daily and becoming brides and mistresses converges on the well -- they converge on, the footprint of the well -- wells footprint and leave like flocks of birds.    The bride follows through her own gate and prays at the well and the plunging Earth.    The Earth is a tower and sometimes many madness in the wedding, a long journey from good mine.    They sing hymns.    Hymns sing they, the they gate they the gateless sing hymns to a gate sing to no entrance sing entrance to no, to -- to the burrow of a city to the underground of a city which is a chariot.    The hymn is present tense.    Hymns are present tense.    Ritual is the act of the hymn and the hymn magics and circles a body (a body touches a body and transforms a hymn; a body touches a body and transfers a song -- the hymn is a hymn and the singing is singing and sacrifices songs.    The wedding is an exodus and the woman leaves or she is able to leave as a Married One or a Carnivore.    The maiden’s chat her true name and chew hallucinogenic leaves.    The leaves are transformation.    Birds sing and chant outside the Church Widow and death is its mercy and transformation death is merciful and God is a death a very large death while others are very small deaths or not deaths at all.    If I dream, I do not wake or the waking interrupts my dreams dreaming and living is sometimes sleeping or dreaming is sometimes living.    Who is speaks to a face as a today not as nights in dream where on dreams and I find it difficult to dream and I find it difficult to speak.    I cultivate the body and I reap the Bride and the Vision is a unison of Birds and raptors laughing for her child and miserable then her child.    History eats her child and past brings past and present tense.    Birds fly into an open window and search for a god or god near god a bride.    I do not hear god but I see the ritual.    I do not hear God but I act the ritual.    I sound I bisect sound I round sound which divides into voice de God and its lover who wrestles and sleeps not.    The serpents come for me and a daughter -- a mixed media of a daughter -- the birds come and take them away.    The birds feast upon the serpents.    I was jealous of May Crowning or I was Jealous of waking.    Perhaps I awake and there is nothing else.    It eats jealousy for the city collecting birds and men.    After a night (and after a night a wave carries my body and waves are carrying bodies and from the body, the body is mine and emanates in waves.    Down and up in solid white, in the cleansing circle of salt and waves.    My body is a salt; my soul is a salt, punctuated by waves and water.    Water and waves separate.    The water and waves separate in circles and formless -- in formless circles -- crucifixion circles bright red and orange.    The Earth becomes a wave it finishes the soul.    It finishes in dreams and jealousy -- jealous dreams animal dreams and dreams polish the earth until it is a mirroring stone.    It finishes the Earth which is a city.    It finishes the Earth which is a dream.