Thursday, February 22, 2018

Holy Sigil of the Hominids

   
By Nick Sammartino

cry thanks to the snail-god,
a spiral shell         a maze in a mirror,
contemplate the snail-god,
contemplate the orange burden……

 heavy round star
    resting on the head
of a being
                 made mortal
         through self-spun enfeeblement….


it must be a matter of stupidity
       for the snail-god
to hear our
songs and sad
litanies to the
    man-god - 
        asks
            the snail-god:
      “what can a missing man-god
do for a man
                  that a man cannot do
                                    for himself?”...

    watch them
          befoul thumbprints with disinfectant,
                holy sigil of the hominids -
   a shell in                         a mirror veiled
downward spiral                     by a maze,
            contemplate the snail-god,
            contemplate man’s burden……….

“look on your finger and find the maze,
       show the maze to a mirror
and in the reverse of the maze
    you can see the spiral of the shell
                        of the snail-god”...

cry thanks to the snail-god
      who carved into our fingers and toes
a liquid map to mark the way - 
 and we call these jagged gifts:
     the twins
credit and blame,
the man-god
   did not even stick around
long enough
     to ponder any purpose
for us
     beyond “ye be mine own manikins”…..

we love
      to leave oil paintings behind -
               and there will always be this trail
                            to trace back
                                    through the maze, 
a haemal gallery hall
of limitless length
of ceaseless splendor
         cradling ten thousand trillion canvases
     upon which we spread our
moments and memories
in vivid grease….

indeed the snail-god
       proclaims:     
“after all the stars
            have ridden the rainbow
                        of nuclear effulgence,
                             the stillborn darkness
will still be able to feel
your ancient knotted scars”...  

    the snail-god became small
 yes
                          but stayed with us,
                                   we who were
                                   demented by freedom,
       and became legion,
            spreading out across the world
to watch
     mildly
 our towering arrogance
from below -
while the man-god
     walked away
on legs
                 like those forced on humanity…

I will never forgive the man-god’s vanity - 
I will never forgive the absence of my shell.


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