The Arks

Subspace astronauts,
Trapped in their escape pods,
Wading in circular time streams,
Cromlechs on Earth,
Gathering moss,
Monolithic conduits,
To genetic space stations,
And orbiting Sirius.
Now housed in great mud huts,
Kept safe by Dogon cartographers,
And those immune to imprinting.
Their complex spiral ladders,
And spliced,
With symbiotic species,
By surgeons of a secret society.

A New World

Modify dominant chromosonal structures of existing life forms, apply our template.
Scan for compatibility.
Sentient material detected.
Make adjustments to base sequencing.
Fuse evolutionary timeline of sentient,
temporal circle required for biological interface
Launch probe with new matrix for first evasive contact.
Lock on to material subset for conversion.
Dock and secure probe.
Penetrate membrane.
Establish homeostatic environment and stimulate colony.
Replicate new probes.
String colonies together.
Invade host organism.

Gathering Stones for the Lodge

A terminal decade.
Through stones,
And pieces of wood,
Bound by string,
And nail.
Positions plotted,
Against alchemical states,
Establish final placement,
These devices will sanctify walls,
And mark the last stages,
Of a house of holes,
And contain the concluding stations of forty four years,
Of a lodge of devils.

The Children Run and Hide

The Father,
Of white long hair,
And cobwebs,
And broken head,
Like a cracked bowl,
Like a Humpty Dumpty,
He is hollow.
He is mindless.
The Mother,
Of tangled hair,
And twigs,
And thistles,
And thorns,
She who walks mad,
Upside down,
Below worlds,
With teeth and talons bare.
Both powerless,
By frenzy,
And fury-fueled wanderings,
Their blood,
And ties,
The lust,
Of their universe,
Left useless,
And to devour their sons and daughters,
Severing blood and body,
To serve to their wounds and scars,
Until the blood runs no more,
And the bones are bare,
And all that remains,
Is to murder one another.

The First Transyuggothian Radio Station on Earth

Visceral statics burn air,
Radio wave decay,
Transmitting homicide,
And cellular mutation.
Host body modems give call sign,
And sound technician sensitives,
Fill coptic jars with ectoplasmic telegraph-ings,
To be broadcast on all channels,
Outside the Circles of Time.
Sub-harmonic seances,
On Air,
Following a word from our sponsor.

The Column

Scalpel-like caress-ings,
Across vertebrae,
Protruding as landing lights,
Down back,
From nap of neck,
With glowing blue blinking tracer markers,
From fingers,
To toes,
Skin stretched to fit,
Over pulled tight,
To spinal storms of lightning.