Monday, April 9, 2018

2018 5/30

(34.) FURFUR. - The Thirty-fourth Spirit is Furfur. He is a Great and Mighty Earl, appearing in the Form of an Hart with a Fiery Tail. He never speaketh truth unless he be compelled, or brought up within a triangle, Ò. Being therein, he will take upon himself the Form of an Angel. Being bidden, he speaketh with a hoarse voice. Also he will wittingly urge Love between Man and Woman. He can raise Lightnings and Thunders, Blasts, and Great Tempestuous Storms. And he giveth True Answers both of Things Secret and Divine, if commanded. He ruleth over 26 Legions of Spirits.

The creaking voice of the lying angel
crooning, owl song of my father's
old tinsel in the tree's branches, shining
as the ice melt gluts the creeks

onion grass and ramps crawling from the dead world
the truth, spoken under complusion
whatever did not rot in the soft wet winter

the house burned away to ash
and the toad in the well-head
cafish swimming over the old washer
the jagged edge of fill and trash and mosquito larvae in old buckets
and the ceaseless rain through the oaks

no confession in the lines of his hieratic scrawl
serif-less, scrambling line on an envelope
of silence, of blood-money

praise buzzards and their naked heads,
their monklike tonsure,
the way they eat the hearts of roadkill deer
like a kind of prayer, head bobbing, wings outstretched

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