“Dirghatamas”
somesh* rooms
*lord moon
“i
have drunk of the soma
and now half of me am Urth
the
other half [mirth]”
~Dīrghatamaster, “There was in
olden days a wise Rishi…”
toadstool
bufo ten nine
mooscaria countdown
sync into the skin of the gods
~Once i was me; but now i’m you
added to since 1st Mandala
//
chief priest of King Bharata
after whom
India was first named
//
birth of Dirghatamas in
the MahaBharata
studied in his mother’s
womb the Vedas
Semen tuum frusta perdi non potest.
“O father, cease from
thy attempt. There is no room here for two
Quum auten jam cum illa coiturus
esset,” but Mamata
possessed the most beautiful pair
of eyes.
//
wombling enfolded in perpetual darkness
born blinded by the father’s spit
yet possessed of the
Vedas yet
famous for his paradox mantras
enigmas : “
, he who knows
the father above by what is below
is called the poet
//
called by many names”
//
360 spokes placed in the sky.
---
“That Lot’s History Motors, Way Gone”
On its plains where grew fine plants
Lamentation reeds now grow.
//
Circa 4300 years (“where go?”)
“gone” — Sargon of
Akkad arm wrestled
Sumerian city-states
from Umma, then stormed across her
Fertile Valley Between Two
Rivers controlled
trade from the silver mines of Anatolia/
to the lapis
lazuli mines of Badakhshan
from the cedar forests of Lebanon
to the Gulf of Oman
fortresses were built/
to silo
imperial wheat
irrigation
canals extended bureaucratic
reach
fed palaces and
temples imperial taxes.
//
Then, like a hundred-year old
cookie
the sky crumbled/
withering
storms cut through wheat fields
coated them in black dust.
For another hun-
dread dry mouthed
sulfurous halitoxic summers/
southwestern Europe to central Asia
Iberia to Crete Egypt’s Old
Kingdom towns of Palestine
great cities of the Indus
dusted.
//
sudden abandon
collapse remains.
300-year cottonmouth
full of erosion
deposits no trace
urbanality. Only
above 3 centuries of strata
later
do ash, trash and
monumental
apparitions
haunt anew
same o’ same go.
//
2 millennia before Yeshua
people like Abram fled the Assyrian
plains
en masse.
//
A thin layer of volcanic ash
sprinkle the last Akkadian mud bricks
under an 8 inch-thick cap of fine sand
testifies to centuries
of global drought
Hongshan
(“round heaven, square earth”) triangle collapsed
Emericus? Still out
remains tight-lipped as a jungle
pyramid cut off and overrunneth
with old-growth jaguars and Homeland
guillotines
carrying a big
“We’re Number One!” shtick
for review. No set
up just gobble gulp go
//
The 3rd Dynasty of Ur
was last attempt to revive Sumer
back in the
day before the great famine & drought
like when Tom Jones
back in the
day came on stage
every woman in the front row
crossed her legs.
//
now it’s all
FBI warnings
about video piracy
5 years in
prison ¼ million-dollar fines
//
follow the movie
don’t mess with our cut
//
wands whittled from holly wood wave fluid
Druidlike spells
cast mass market
cast mass media cast of thousands
pulling strings pulling
feathers American
Bald Mockingbird
he he he Fidelity/har
har har Vanguard/
hey twitter
tweet State Street
BlackRock da bomb go
long, NSA: PRISM
A-ok for liftoff
//
making a living let alone living a making
can no way ,
like
slickass Zombie movies , prep anyone
for the headshot it’s in the
clause apparently
cuz all we do is bite
infecting those we bite
devouring what little is left after the hail I
mean aren’t we just
asking for it?
//
only Corporations are
people
//
profits
not prophets
//
mitts off
Big Soma. from mpcAstro's newly released (9 June 2014) book of poetry,
Nidus Plexus: a metric montage (Oneiros Books)
