Crop circles
U.F.Os
ripples on water
prints on snow
Renounce the mundane
embrace the sorcery of stone
For I have heard rock talk
To invoke
chatter and crack
crimped in sediment
I offered myself
sacrifice
to fossilised sirens
Rock wept
and cursed
Come neophyte
Iwill show you how
Take chalk
powdered rock-blood
virginal white
dust fingers
to open the route
(Through digits the spirits
will speak)
Truss genitals in tight restraint
wear rubber on feet
(Wing of bat and eye of newt are no
longer the acceptable accoutrements of the
21st century pagan)
Approach rock
feel the force
Flesh resurrects
these Gritstone walls
Offerings of skin
torn on craggy face
summon the supervisors
of the single pitch
As you rise
listen
probing fingers become ears
listen
carefully in your head
pause
Protect
with charm of silver
listen
once more
Spiritual sediment beckons
"Go on. Go on."
Then
demonic verse
Omen theme
monks in red chanting
"Be gone. Be gone."
And the atheist cries
"God."
And the rock pagan conjures
"Jesus H. Christ"
If silence prevails
return to Peak
spell book
start again.
I Have Heard Rock Talk
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