We have no head
But still we speak
With tongues of fire

With blood and scale
And feather and iron
We swim upstream

Seeking sweet sources
Of honey and ash,
The golden liquor brewed

In the marrow of our bones
Gleaming in the dark soil of Night
There lies a mirror that smokes – full of burning Images.

Walking backward,
Crossing coursing waters
Amidst the locust’s hum

We have no head
And the Black Dogs feast
Upright and holy

While we drink wine
Alone –
A banquet of scraps and fragments

Bricolage fills our bellies
Brews our heady venom,
Sharpens the serpent’s fang.

Patchwork liars with our coats
Of many colours
We clamber up from the Pit

To see the driest deserts bloom
To drown the world in Living Water
Sailing apocalyptic seas


Be no more hungry
For the famine of the Soul
Is cured by dry bones and breath

The very flesh of it is found!
Observe the vulture spiral high
And learn why the raven ne’er returned to Noah!

We have no head – it tumbles beyond the firmament
Bound by the Beloved’s favour
Eternally invigorated by endless kisses

Long have we sought the company
Of lions and asses both
To bring forth both strength and sweetness.

Our pride dwells
In verdant realms
Where men see only dust

Our loves
Lie lit
By hidden sun

Gloriously fierce and golden
Savage in their gentleness
Naked in deathly innocence

We who would know all –
Who honour and who are
Machines of endless desiring

(For yes
We too were Made
For Making)

We raise our voices
In ruined temples
To shake the Pillars of Creation

Behold the seven veils of the Kosmos
Now cast aside –
Queen of Heaven all unveiled.

How the dance ensnares us!
Yet All is revealed before us
In the Courts of Death

Thrice down!

This our baptism
Of fire and ice
Of rime and blood

Will you take salt with us?
We, the nomads of desert and steppe?
We, the brotherhood of the raven robe and sable tent?

Will you ride across the sky?
Will you wander the corpse paths?
Will you drink from the cup of the skull?

Be welcome
Old friend
For we shall greet you kindly!