BLACK DOG
The Black Dog
sniffs at my heels
and snarls
too softly for comfort.
Black Dog, go home.
Go home!
I call upon
your master
to call you
home.
O master of the Black Dog,
call your Black Dog home.
Call it off, call it home,
this Black Dog of yours
sniffing at my heels
and snarling softly
at my heels,
too softly for comfort.
“I will strike your heel,”
the Black Dog says;
says the big Black Dog
sniffing at my heel;
“And I will crush your head,”
says I to him who, poised to strike my heel,
hears his master’s voice afar off snarling,
Strike! Strike! Strike!
Strike the bloody goddamned kike!
Strike until his blood runs red.
That was what it said,
the Master said,
as it struck my heel
and I crushed its head
and our blood ran red
so early in the morning.
HOMAGE TO LILITH
Kali. Durga. Hecate. Lilith.
Names. Just names. But she,
She is the Gate of God,
and through her
one enters into God.
Through the Mother
to the Father
to the Crown;
and from there? Where? Nitchevo.
The lair of the serpent,
The cave of the bear,
the cloud of unknowing,
the empty box
filled with unknowing,
waiting for Pandora’s hand.
There! Look! Do you see it?
Nitchevo. Nitchevo. Nitchevo.
The nothing that is everything:
the silent tree falling in the forest,
the one hand clapping in the air.
Behind the thought;
behind the observer of the thought;
behind the observer observing
the observer observing the thought,
what is there?
A vast plentitude of the things of the air.
And I have seen them all (or less)
through the blind eye, the white eye
I have seen the other eye,
the eye not there,
the eye that sees what is not there,
the eye that looks at me, who is not here,
neither seeing nor seen by the things of the air.
Beware. Beware, those things of the air
that are not there, that are not there;
but like the bat, fly in your hair;
and like the bat, fly in your hair.
