a dozensirensareswaying like weirdlycrumpledsyntheticcurtains.
Saintsguardtheirfoulness.
He who is gettingpurifiedbecomes a tyrant.
The balance, theorder is only an illusion,
The lightsteps of thetightropedancerforeshadowhisshamefulfall.
Like a weary faun,
R 0L 0 R
0B v F 0
L v A v L
0 B v.p 0
R 0L 0 R
who has beenswallowedby a slimy, squelchycunt,
he’dtryto hold ontotheass of Earthbuttheflesh is soft, cold and
taken over bylivormortis.
The familiar is collapsing, breaking and moldering.
(It’scoveredwithrust and mold. Itsmellsmusty and fetid.)
The Rookstartsmovingonthechessboardonitsownaccord.
The stakeendsup in theenlargedwholeaswell…
(Translated from Hungarian by Gabor Gyukics )
BIO: Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon) poet, anarchist, occultist from Hungary (Budapest). Earlier books: (szellem)válaszok, A Nap és Holderők egyensúlya . New: Kiterített rókabőr. English poems published: Quail Bell Magazine, Lumin Journal, Moonchild Magazine, Scum Gentry Magazine, Pussy Magic, The Zen Space, Crêpe & Penn, Briars Lit. Known spiritualist mediums, art and explores the relationship between magic.
