Wednesday, April 15, 2015

8/30 2015


The Sixth Spirit is Valefor. He is a mighty Duke, and appeareth in the shape of a Lion with an Ass's Head, bellowing. He is a good Familiar, but tempteth them he is a familiar of to steal. He governeth 10 Legions of Spirits. His Seal is this, which is to be worn, whether thou wilt have him for a Familiar, or not.

In the military PX, my stepfather
in uniform, is flirting with the cashier
(not my mother)
he leans, casually against the counter
and is laughing (not his real laugh)
while his left hand is filling
his cargo pockets
with chocolate bars.

Here is a knife, I got it somewhere
here is a sword, a book on magic
here is a deck of tarot cards
a cow's skull, a black candle

He is climbing through the window
of the projection booth
of the shuttered theater
and I am carrying a flashlight
that dimly lights
the last spool of Rambo,
still in the projector,
the darkened house,
behind the screen, the storeroom
of old pornographic posters,
of projector bulbs
a leaf blower, assorted memorabilia

here is a guitar, I got it
out of the back of a truck
here are some records
here is Metal Hurlant,
Eerie, Creepie, Vampirella
here is a box of books

In the dark drawer, here is a pistol
here is a magazine, with a woman
bound, upside down
here is a bottle of whiskey
an ancient hit of blotter acid

Here is the backseat of the car
soaked in blood and the slow fat flies
here is a glass pipe, a broken lip

here is death, and death and death.

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