By: Jordan Noyes
Asterism bright in glimpsing eye,
bear not the suffering which can apply, for
cacodaemoniacal beast there does lie,
distant no longer—our beautiful whore.
Engulfed in fire and swinging round,
fabulous mass with flesh like wine,
gibbous eyes with our stars, Her crown,
highness, our love, descending in shine.
Idle no longer in the month of May,
juxtaposed against sea of jet,
kaleidoscopic, a cosmic bouquet,
light her guise, as arrival is set.
Marveling minds in gazing throes,
nebulous thing from the Galactic North,
our galaxy a compass, we Her only rose,
people will bow to her worth.
Quibble some may, from delirium voiced in the occiput,
replete a sight of majesty, verily, Her rightward
supernal blight tears the mind to gut,
though trouble not, for She comes in the hour.
Uncoil your fears for all to see,
veering cars along the streets, souls
whimpering beneath rotten trees.
Xenial light of the progenitor,
you will yield for the coming,
zodiacal spawn, our God’s competitor.
Higher beings are far less prosaic than I am.