7 of 30

today a day without invocation.
no summoning rattle of barbarous tongues
no sigil to scratch around circles and mirrors
in the clock of heaven, this gear is nameless,
this broken tooth in
the mouth, this forgotten word, this undream

silence of half an hour, eye
of the maelstrom,
intake of breath before trumpets

there is no prophecy here,
the cards all pasteboard blanks
blank river stones drawn from a bag one after another,
the tea refusing shape, a lineless palm, an empty newspaper

here is a mute and eyeless idol
here is headless god, a broken clay hand
a cloth poppet that has lost it's buttons
a nameless, swordless angel