Hymn To Panoplia

Within void and void within

Io, a trumpet in her beak

Gods descend and water borne

To madness, the milk-white hollow

Living hills guard a lissome body

Armored but to the muttering of wantonness

Sharp as a god erased

Flesh born of gold arteries

Body bored into the root

Of scarlet tides brought to prayer

In comatose eyes of tangled soil

A tree to writhe, void in living

A world as I am as world

Between seas a goat of menaced sacrifice, released

The drums of solstice a token to the starlit thigh